One Piece Project
by Urban Liz
Summary: Fooling around with the 'Hotties' of One Piece. Rated for mature contents. R&R, please! You wish for a special chara to get a go? Message me. Newest addition: Thatch
1. Preposition

First of all:

**Disclaimer: Don't own One Piece!** (I know they can still sue me, but...)

**Beta: Still searching for one…**

Well...I decided to fool around with a few One Piece characters to pass the time during my writer's blocks. So the updates are random and without an order.

The current triplets (work in progress of finished):

1. Old Friends - Ben, Shanks, Mihawk (finished)

2. Commanders - Marco, Ace, Thatch (finished)

3. Slaves - Doflamingo, Smoker, Hina (w.i.p.)

4. The Clueless - Lucci, Law, Kidd (w.i.p.)

No idea with how many characters I will come up at the end, but if you have a special wish: Message me.

Those One Shots are rated M for Lemon/Limone. Basically for **ADULTS ONLY!** You have been warned!

_[A last little comment(because of several messages): Those stories are FICTIONAL and romantic with a bit of spice up. In reality, no matter what the situation, don't forget to protect yourself (for example: condoms)!]_

Enough now, please enjoy the stories written for your pleasure. :)


	2. Ben Beckman

The first stray into a new Fandom for me. Will see where this is going.

**Triplet:** Old Friends – Ben, Shanks, Mihawk (Part I)

* * *

_Literary Tête-á-Tête_

A storm raged outside the library's windows. With a loud roar a blinding white flash tore through the dark grey sky. Rain drops collided with the glass and the lone tree in the front garden of the two storeyed building bowed dangerously close to the ground. The library had closed an hour ago, giving you time to clean the tables and put the read books back into their places.

Mentally you had adapted yourself already to the idea of sleeping in the little room at the back of the library this night. There was no chance you would get home in one piece today, that much was obvious. But since you were used to such storms, your home island wasn't known by the name of 'Storm Island' for nothing, it didn't bother you. Fortunately the couch in the employee's lounge was very comfortable. You had spent there more than one night totally lost in one book or another.

Just when another bolt of lightening blazed, you thought you heard a scraping noise from the level above you. You were sure your senses were playing a trick on you. Nobody, except you, was in the building and ghosts don't exist, right? You frowned. Well, you had no choice, you simply had to look what was up there. Maybe it was a mouse! That seemed to be the most logical explanation.

Armed with a broom you tiptoed upstairs, creeping through the rows of books looking for the source of noise. A rustling made it's way to your ear. If your hearing was correct... . Slowly, fingers clutching desperately onto the broomstick, you turned to your right. You knew, that this way, there was a group of chairs near the windows. But this would mean that someone was still here. You couldn't remember somebody going upstairs today. Your heart pounded madly. You told it to slow the hell down. This was so not good.

You crouched behind the last bookshelf. Carefully, holding your breath in anticipation, you eyed around the wood.

By the way the man leaned above the book and his legs were folded under him you guessed he must be very tall. A nearly burned down candle illuminated him. He had an angular face with a long, slim nose and a high forehead. You suppose you couldn't call him pretty. His long dark hair had been tied back. You stopped in the middle of checking him out. He had just lightened a cigarette.

Your reflexes kicked in. Before you knew what you did, you stepped around the shelf, shoulders square, stating brusquely "Smoking isn't allowed here!".

Even before you finished the sentence you mentally kicked yourself. Yeah, great idea! The man looked up. He looked slightly surprised, the cigarette dangerously dangling from the corner of his mouth. The man blinked twice before slowly taking the cigarette and extinguish the smoulder between two moistened fingers.

A deep "I'm sorry" followed and he turned back to his book.

Now it was your turn to stand there perplex. That was it? Before you could work yourself into a fit your scanning eyes landed on a long rifle. Whatever you were about to say became stuck on it's way. Holding your broom protectively in front of yourself you backed away.

Regrettably straight into the bookshelf behind you. You fell rather graceless taking a lot of books with you. That successfully drew his attention. He stood up, unfolding to his full height. You swallowed. Oh, this was so not good. Your eyes widened when he came towards you. Even though he crouched down in front of you, holding out his hand and smiling gently, you felt like a trapped prey. You eyed him suspiciously, but took his hand.

One second you were sitting on the floor, the next you were standing. You hadn't expected that he was this strong. The surprise and momentum propelled you into his chest. He steadied you with a hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. Your hands rested against his rock hard chest since you had tried in vain to stop the collision. Embarrassed you stepped back, just to trip over the fallen books. Before anything could happen he gripped your upper arms and sat you on the chair he had occupied. Without a glance or a word he turned back to the books.

When he bent over to pick the items up and stack them back into the shelf, your eyes wandered to his behind and long legs. Your body seemed to have a will on its own today. Trying to make sure you had a clear head again, you kicked your left shin with your right foot. A gasp left your mouth. You had used a bit too much strength. You started rubbing your shin-bone frantically and cursing yourself quietly. That was why you didn't notice him turning around, surveying you obviously amused. One hand resting on the chair's backrest, the other placed on his hip he leaned down to your eye level.

'"Everything all right with you girl?" Amusement dripped from his every word.

"I'm not a girl but a woman. And no, nothing is right", you huffed at him. Why the candle chose that moment to go out was beyond your understanding.

So now you were sitting in a dark, empty library with a tall, strong and obviously dangerous man in front of you. The lightning outside gave his face a terrifying vicious effect. Even if you wished to, you simply couldn't throw him out while there was such a storm outside. Not caring what he would think you started swearing loudly using every phrase of your very colourful vocabulary.

By the end he sat on the floor Indian style laughing like there was no tomorrow. Your luck he couldn't see your pout and angry eyes since your back faced the window. Standing up, you patted invisible dust off your clothes and stalked back downstairs shouting "If you want another candle, follow me."

Flicking on the lights in the employee's lounge you grasped a set of candles and laid it on the table. You looked at the door. He hadn't followed you. Was this good? No,you decided, it wasn't, since you now didn't knew where he was. Shrugging you started brewing coffee for you.

"Can I have one too?" it sounded from behind you. Scared, you nearly jumped around, seeing him sitting peacefully on the couch, a book in his lap and that damned gun next to him. You nodded. Everything inside you screamed at you _'Throw him out!'_, but you didn't.

After a few minutes filled with uneasy silence two steaming cups of coffee sat between you two on the table.

Your slightly awkward situation was disrupted by crashing sounds and two peple talking on the street. The voices were coming closer and you could hear a man and a woman talking. Who was so crazy to walk around town in this weather? Just outside the window a man tried to shout against the wind "But lassy...sooooooo nice of you...w' hav' to find Ben...Bennie Ben...*hieks*".

The man in front of you shot up and pressed himself flat against the wall next to window. Putting a long, lean finger against his lips he beckoned you to keep silent. You waited until the voice faded. You leaned back smirking up at him. You hoped your interpretation of the situation was correct.

"Ben, huh?",you cooed at him.

"Yes. My name is Ben Beckman and that was my Captain. But I suppose I'm more like a babysitter.", he sighed.

"So you're a sailor, right?", excitement shone in your eyes. You were never one to dismiss an opportunity for new stories. And experience proved sailors to know many stories from all over the world.

"Yeah, I guess you could call me that.", he answered warily. You flew over to him, kneeling next to him on the couch, his hands clasped in yours. He watched your face. Shining eyes watching him in anticipation. He carefully removed the rifle from under your knees and settled himself more comfortably on the couch. Long he thought about what to tell you. Finally he settled on a few old stories from his early years with the Red Shanks.

Soon he learned that you were no delicate Lady and enjoyed an especially detailed and colourful reproduction even of the fighting scenes. It was easy for him to see that you totally immerged into the story by the straining of your body from suppressed eagerness and the shine in your eyes. You were sizzling inside. Ben was a talented storyteller. You felt like you had to jump up with a fierce roar the next second to face the enemy. He was slowly coming to the end of this story. You were just through a perilous battle out on the open sea between Shanks' pirate crew and a smart, sneaky slave trader.

While the ship's doctor cared for the pirates, Shanks and his second in command searched the enemy's ship for surviving slaves.

'The ship has been riddled by our cannonballs. Dead corps lay strewn over all the levels. Just at the bottom, hidden behind barrels and crates was a young woman. Her hands were still handcuffed, but it seemed that during the fight the wall she was chained to had been destroyed because the metal chain was still intact and wood was still hanging on the bolts' he said in his deep voice, staring at the opposite wall, lost in his memories, a remorseful look marring his face when thinking about all the death and suffering.

You waited in silence, holding your breath, but nothing more was coming. You were nearly sitting on his lap, so you looked straight up into his, asking breathlessly by curiosity.

"And? What happened to her?" He indulgently smiled at you.

"We dumped her, as well as the other _slaves, _off at the next island with a larger town, so they could make their way home." You frowned at him, openly showing you dissatisfaction with this ending.

"And that was it?", you shrieked at him, not at all trying to hide your disapproval, 'Nothing happened?'

He laughed low and smooth.

"Well, to be honest...no not really. I cared for her and we exchanged knowledge." That statement confused you. You lifted an eyebrow at him. His only reaction was chuckle. Ben thought it to be really cute how you cocked your head to the side like an owl, your eyebrows wrinkled, nearly meeting in the middle, your arms crossed under your chest, looking determined to figure something out that was just beyond your reach.

Shifting his gaze shortly at the clock behind you, he saw he still had a few hours until they were leaving this island, so why not indulge in a bit of foolery. He hadn't to worry about his captain, since Shanks seemed to have found a more appealing babysitter. Seeing that he was travelling around the world and having a longing for knowledge, you thought it safe to further inquire: "And what knowledge?"

He leaned over you, sliding his left arm along the couch's backrest, his right hand rested relaxed next to you.

"Do you really want to know?", he whispered against your ear. A bit irritated but ignoring his behaviour you looked him straight in the eye and answered annoyed: "Yes of course. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked."

He smiled at you and somehow you had the feeling you had done something very, very stupid. Kneeling before you he let his right arm glide under your legs, coming to rest in the crook of your legs, his left arm sneaking around your upper body, his hand sprawled over your back. In a swift movement he lay you on your back, legs outstretched beside him, your head resting on a pillow. Slowly his lips brushed over yours, like a butterfly's wing, from one corner of your mouth to the other.

He lifted his head to watch your reaction. For a moment you were completely dumbstruck. Then everything fell into place and understanding hit you. You were blushing madly because you had been so blind. You heard him chuckling above you. Smiling sheepishly up at him, you pondered him. You knew next to nothing about him. And you wouldn't see him again after this night. That much was sure. So why not enjoy this night? You were both trapped inside the library. So what spoke against it? It had already been a long time since you shared your bed with somebody.

You always thought that men were the same in most aspects so you weren't missing out on anything, which left you with enough time to pour into your passion: books. Wickedly you grinned at him. Lifting your weight onto your forearms, you touched your lips against his in a brief peck. That should be more than enough of a clear answer, you complimented yourself. Your were rewarded with a honest smile before he kissed you again.

Slowly you wound your arms around his neck. You lay back against the pillows and he followed you, never breaking from the kiss as he stretched out next to you on his side. He cradled you head in the crook of his left arm, his right draped loosely over your belly.

A glorious heat was radiating off his body, making you feel warm and secure. You snuggled closer to him, reviewing the evening. First you had been clumsy, than you had been scared, than you had been haughty, than you tried to keep distance, followed by making a fool of yourself. So why not change your attitude one more time. This night was something only to be known off by you and the man next to you. Why not enjoy it and feel like a femme fatale you have often imagined but had failed to be because of insecurity.

Teasingly you pressed into him, asking him from beyond downcast eyelashes in a timid way:"So what knowledge did you exchange?" He sent a naughty grin, accompanied by a raised brow, your way before answering against you throat.

"Many interesting ideas". Feeling daring you rolled onto your side facing him letting the fingertips of your left hand trail over his leg up to his neck and back again before settling on his behind, giving it a playful squeeze.

You felt the laughter rumbling in his chest. With his right hand he pressed you back onto your back before letting his right hand travel over your cloth covered body, while his left was playing idle with strands of your hair. You rubbed your cheek against the rough cloth of his clack shirt, inhaling his scent. The man smelled of the sea, a sweet, heavy fragrance tinged with the strong freshness of salt. Would his skin taste of salt?

While his hand had found it's way underneath your shirt and now discovered every curve and plane of your body he never broke the eye contact. You smiled gently at him. Letting your index finger trace over his high forehead, down the nose, stopping at his smiling lips, which bestowed a small kiss at the tip, before you cupped his warm cheek in your smooth palm.

He again leaned down to kiss you. You took your time kissing him. His kisses were unhurried, deep and sensually. You have always like kissing. A part you were never inclined to skip, even though men seemed to not value it so highly. So you enjoyed it to the fullest. A pleasant tingle spread in your stomach, making you want to giggle like a little school girl. The way one of his huge, warm hands pressed you close to his rock hard body and the other traced random pattern on your skin made you feel deliciously naughty and very appreciated.

Ben changed his position from beside you to straddling your hips. His hands slowly moved the hem of your shirt upwards and he kissed your skin, sometimes playfully grazing your hip with his teeth, his tongue plunging into you belly button before kissing way upward. He took a detour over your breasts, his tongue flipping over your collar bones before pressing heated kisses over your pulse. For a second he devoured your mouth with fervour, than suddenly changed to a chaste lingering kiss, before he broke away from you to smooth your ruffled hair. You were enjoying his considerate behaviour but were becoming more and more impatient.

You started tucking his black shirt out of his sash, successfully eliminating two piece of clothes at the same time. 'Go me!', you thought cheerfully. Every scar you could see you had to feel. Living on the sea for a long time had hardened his body. Startled you realised that he could not only verbally take you to pieces. The rifle on the ground next to the couch shot into your awareness. Because of his tenderness your forgot that this man was really dangerous. But the knowledge only fuelled your desire to be chosen by such a man. He may not be the prettiest but he was magnificent in his own way.

You sighed languorously when he skilfully removed your bra and bathed your mounds in gentle kisses and licks. It was true that you were not as well endowed as the girls in the tavern but that would have looked strange on you anyway since you were rather tall and androgynous with slim hips and a nearly not existing waistline. He let his hand rest on a breast feeling the ample nipple pucker up under his warm hand.

Lazily you let your hands glide over his back, feeling the warmth and tightly corded muscles move under your hands. You leaned back and enjoyed the feeling he provoked in you. Butterflies of pure happiness flew in your stomach. Never had you felt thusly desired. You freed his hair out of it's ponytail and ran your hands through the dark, heavy mass. He sat up, smirking at you, the hair falling over his broad shoulders giving him something devilishly dashing.

Holding eye contact he opened your trousers, pulled them over your hips, down your tights until he was stopped by your knee-length boots. He grinned and divested you of clothing down to your panties. He stood next to the couch and removed his own boots. When he looked up again you had stretched out fully on your back, your arms lying over your head, giving him an unhindered view. There was no hiding his arousal and your heart fluttered in glee having this man under your spell.

Feeling naughty, you moved a bit. Slowly you arched your back a bit off the couch, always keeping eye contact. You slowly sucked your right index finger into your mouth, letting the moistened finger run down your throat, over your breast, circling your nipples, straight south to the hem of your panties. You hooked both thumps into under it to slowly wiggle out of them.

Laughter was bubbling inside your chest and you had a hard time suppressing it. In his haste to get rid of his trousers he nearly fell onto the floor, face first. He smiled sheepishly at you which drew a chuckle from you. He was hovering over you on all fours. You realised this wouldn't work, since the couch was too narrow.

Seeing realisation showing on your face, he beckoned you with a fluid movement of his hand to lie on your side facing the room so he could slide behind you. He held you close to his chest, with his left arm under you giving him easy access to your breast, his right hand caressing your thighs. Slowly his hand slipped into the valley between your legs, caressing you in his unhurried way. You shifted your weight to your left forearm, turning your face up to his, your right hand caressing his side and thigh.

Pleasant waves of pleasure washed over your senses, slowly growing. When you started moving your hips in time with his hands movements, he decided to take it up a notch and let a long finger slip into you, what you acknowledged with a sharp intake of breath and a hard buck of your hips into his hands. Taking his time he prepared you for him.

When you writhered against him in unfulfilled need he lifted one of your legs, positioning his own in between, pulling your hips to accommodate him more easily. He started with a slow rhythm of long, strong strokes, always nearly leaving your body before sheating himself again in your warmth. When the volume of your groans and gasps grew he picked up the pace, pressing your body against his. The knot in your lower body exploded, making you press yourself against him almost violently. Your whole body shuddered. When he lay you onto your back again you felt sated, happy but very tired. He kissed you tenderly and held you close until you were asleep and making sure you were tucked securely under the blanket before he left the library.

You woke the next morning by a woman's voice screeching in anger. When you turned around you saw her passing the window in a mad dash towards the harbour.

"_That hormone ridden bitch! If I find her she better has a reason!", _the young women cursed loudly. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes you set to straightening your clothes. Seemed like you weren't the only one losing your marbles last night.


	3. Redhaired Shanks

_N/A:_ Oh hey, people liked Ben. That is nice. So I picked the next lunatic. Shanks is so funny. I would so love to sail with him. *grin*

**Triplet:** Old Friends – Ben, Shanks, Mihawk (Part II)

* * *

Stormy Seas

"I told you! Go out and have fun. I will sleep and tomorrow we will enjoy the day together. I'm just so sorry." your friend muttered while retreating further underneath your blanket. You gently patted the top of her head.

"All right then, until tomorrow morning. Try to sleep, than you will feel better." You pressed a chaste kiss to her forehead before you left the room quietly.

While you tottered down the street on your high heels, the grey sky over you darkened. The wind intensified, the cool air creeping underneath you trousers. You felt the storm coming. The knowledge of it left your skin tingling. When you were young you always said, that the butterflies in your stomach were ones of excitement, the knowledge of being able to defy the force of a storm.

Soon the tavern came into sight. It was a stocky, massive, grey building. Not very appealing from the outside, but had a charming flair once you were past the heavy steel doors. _Sounds familiar_, you mused, a picture of your friend, who had sailed alone and ill just to visit you on your birthday, showing up before your inner eye.

The Tavern glowed in soft golden lights from luminous sources hidden in the walls. The room was filled like nothing you had ever seen before. It was nearly bursting. A huge group of very merry, and by the looks of it very drunk, men occupied every table and chair, so, instead of relaxing in a secluded corner like planned, you had to sit at the bar.

You flopped down on an upholstered bar stool, ordering your favourite drink with a smooth gesture. The bartender immediately served you a grey-purple substance in a colourful, slender glass, decorated with cream, different fruits and a tiny, pink parasol. He was a lean, dark-skinned beauty. He threw a coquette smile your way, green eyes winked at you, his lush, dark curls swaying around his face while he mixed one cocktail after another.

You had just finished your drink when another was slid into your field of vision, long dark fingers appealingly curling around the base. You smirked at the man, openly challenging him with your eyes. _Yumm_y, you thought,_ a woman could definitely get used to this sight. _And so the majority of an hour went by. Just when you started to undress him with your eyes a loud laugh erupted next to your ear. You winced slightly.

"Forget it, lass. This one won't give you the action you are looking for." the male beside you laughed.

"And that would be why, Mister?", you asked annoyed. This was your birthday for God's sake! When you turned around, you gave the man beside you a once over. You had ignored him since you were busy alternately drowning in misery, because of sitting alone in a bar on your birthday, and flirting with the bartender. Seeing you scowling at him, he laughed even more. His fire-red hair caught your attention first. _'What an unusual colour', _you thought. Then there were those three scars over his left eye. And his laugh. It seemed he laughed and smiled the whole time.

He leaned over and showed you with his eyes to follow the barkeeper with your own eyes. From the corner of your eyes you saw him leaning over the bar and kissing a young boy, who was maybe twenty years old. _Damn!_ Your face fell. And the readhead laughed even louder.

"See. I told you, lass", smiling in victory he tried wiggling his eyebrows at you. Since he was swaying and his cheeks were tinted a slight pink by the alcohol it looked more like he had bitten into something sour.

This was just your luck. And the redhead next to you was really irritating. So he wanted to be cocky, huh? Well, you could play along and amuse yourself a bit. Leaning over to him, a smirk of pure smugness gracing your lips, you whispered to him 'Anything else you want to tell me?'

To your frustration he only laughed again. That man for sure was infuriating. He looked you up and down before stating in a matter-of-fact voice'Your leather pants are very tight but you can wear it. And this white shirt most definitely shows off your assets.'And then he laughed again.

Why was he laughing yet again? He should stay away from the alcohol. Seriously. It was your birthday,so you had dressed sexy in black leather pants with matching high heels and a white t-shirt. What was his problem? Besides being comepletly and untterly drunk, that is. But it was his next comment that made your temper snap.

"All in black and white. You must be the prettiest cow I have ever seen." he laughed.

That did it! You grasped your cocktail and poured it over his head before stomping out of the tavern.

The redhead scratched his head. Maybe he overdid it. Or that female was just unusually touchy. Whatever, it was not good to let someone roam outside when a storm was brewing at the horizon. Bawling back to the comments of his crew accompanying his unsteady leave,his open bottle still in one hand, he started his search. When he left the tavern a cold wind blew into his face. He sobered up. It was a matter of minutes and the storm would be on them. He saw you walking down the street, so he hastened behind you. Unfortunately his pursuit was hindered by his inebriate condition.

You heard an infernal turmoil behind you. You jumped around, seeing how the redhead from the bar staggered into a couple of tinny trash cans before falling, the beer bottle protectively clutched to him, and taking the bins with him. Quickly he was on his not so steady feet again, waving and calling for you to wait. You smacked your forehead with the flat of your hand. Great, now he was following you. Just what you needed right now. A groan of frustration escaped your throat.

"What?", you hissed into his face when he came to a halt in front of you.

"Lassy, sorry. You seem to have misunderstood something I have said." he started.

"And that would have been?" You were near exploding. First he insults you and then there he goes and has the audacity to say that YOU had misunderstood something. You wanted to smack him really badly.

"I don't know how to phrase it...",he emptied the bottle before screaming against the strong wind, "it is just that I..."

His explanation was interrupted by one of the trash bins flying down the street, hitting him in the hollow of the knee and bringing him down rather painful. Desperate, you pulled him up, screaming against the wind blowing into your face "We have to get off the street. The storm is coming."

"The harbour is near. We could sit out the storm on my ship." He gripped your elbow, dragging you behind. Seeing him staggering dangerously, you slid an arm around him, pressing him to you to steady him.

He grinned at you. "That is really nice, even though I think we have to find my first mate, Ben Beckmann, first." You shook your head no. As to emphasize your point a sign that said _'Library'_ hit him.

So he tried it with a child-like behaviour "But lassy...sooooooo nice of you...w' hav' to find Ben...Bennie Ben...". This was followed by a hiccup. He shook his head, trying to sober up.

While you two fought against the storm to reach the harbour , it had started raining. And now you were sitting on the bed in the bunk of the redhead, completely drenched, waiting for the man to come back with dry clothing so you could take a shower. You were terrified by a sudden, dull knock. Within seconds you had jumped of the bed, out the door and spotted him lying on the floor near the stairs. When you knelt down he was unconscious. Damn that alcohol.

You would have never thought him to be that heavy! It had cost every ounce of your strength to drag him into his room and heave him onto his bed without hurting him even more. Dreading the task which you had to fulfill you looked him over again. He was as tall as you and lean, though the V of his shirt showed a well-muscled chest. You were well aware that he would catch a cold if you didn't change his clothes. Carefully you peeled the layers of rain-soaked cloth away, your eyes staring at the wall opposite you.

"Lassy, no need to be so chivalrous." His words were dripping with mockery. Your eyes started back into his. Inside you were fuming, but you refused to show him how he got under your skin. Lazily he slipped off his sandals, wiggled out of his black trousers and then scurried quickly under the warm blanket. You had turned around, embarrassed, and wanted to head for the door, when he got hold of your elbow and pulled you back onto the bed. The momentum of the sudden movement and the rocking of the ship made sure you landed sprawled above him.

"I'm sorry, Mister. I didn't want t-t-to...",you stuttered, trying to free your arms out of his grip and your eyes from his. Damn, he looked so sexy, the red strands of hair clinging to his ever smiling face, and knowledge that only your clothes and the blanket were between your bodies excited you in a strange way.

"Don't call me Mister. It makes me feel old.",he whined, "The name is Shanks." That last part was whispered into your ear, his hot breath tickling against your damp, cold skin. Shanks...Shanks...Shanks... you had heard that name and you were absolutely sure about that. It striked you like a bolt of lightening. You backed off until you nearly fell from his bed. Your words were laced with panic, your eyes wide.

"Shanks as in 'the Redhaired Shanks'? Shanks as in the famous pirate captain Shanks?" He laughed, scratching the back of his head, he admitted "Yes, that would be me." And laughed.

A storm was raging outside, so you couldn't leave the ship. That meant you were trapped with a dangerous, well-known, completely naked pirate captain. You concluded that you should better always be on alert, lest you find yourself in serious trouble. Seeing you backing off again he grasped your wrist and jerked you forward. With his head he motioned to a chair. "There are dry clothes and..." another movement of the head "...there is the shower. You better hurry up or you will catch a cold."

You didn't dare argue, so you hurried into the bathroom, locking the door behind you, just in case. Nonetheless you were on alert the whole time, but when you left the bathroom you saw that he was already asleep, lying on his side, one arm tugged under his head. He really looked cute. Like an overgrown child. You tried to stifle your giggling. The ship was still gently rocking from side to side, so you slid beside him under the astonishingly warm blanket. You concluded you could get off the ship in the morning, when the storm had passed.

For some time you closed your eyes and enjoyed the sway of the ship. Since you were starting to doze off, you didn't exactly recognize that the ship started to sway stronger and the sounds of the whipping waves became louder. So you were extremely shocked when you noisily fell out of the little bed. The loud impact your body made with the floor woke Shanks up.

Two big, warm hands stopped your rubbing of your aching shoulder by lifting you up back into bed. The captain carefully laid you down next to the wall. You mumbled a low "_Thanks, I guess."_ but he smiled back at you yet again. "No problem, lass. This way you wont fall out again."

And with those words he closed his eyes, his arm still comfortably draped over your middle. Since you didn't actually mind it's heavy warmth, you tried to doze off again. And again before you could enter dreamland you were disturbed. This time by the Redhaired snuggling closer to you in his sleep.

Ignoring him, you turned around to face the wall, thusly his hand came to rest on your stomach. Sure enough after a few minutes it started gently tracing strange designs there. Somewhere deep down in your subconscious mind you suspected that he wasn't asleep at all. So you turned around looking for any signs of him being awake. You found none. His breath was shallow and slow, his body completely relaxed.

Frustrated with the prospect of getting no sleep tonight, you lay down again, hugging the blanket as tight around you as you could. The familiarity of a howling storm soothed your nerves a bit. None the less there was no sleep for you anymore. As if your bedneighbour could sense your slight relaxation, a warm body settle even closer to you, pressing a rough, hard chest to your back. A few moment you lay still, considering different courses of action. In the end you settled for turning around to face the sleeping pirate and speak loud and clearly, so your words echoed inside the bunk.

"Stop that nonsense. You're not sleeping at all!"

Nothing happened. He didn't react at all. So you started tugging at his hair. First gently, than a bit more forceful. After all you didn't want to rip his hair out. Even though this idea did win on appeal with every second. A strong sway knocked you back against the wall behind you. Your shoulder, the one you landed on when you fell out of your current bed, began throbbing again and brought an interesting picture to your head.

Carefully you laid your hands on his shoulder and hip, fighting the urge to take a closer look, and started to push.

Just when his weight started to move, a hand shot out and pulled you onto him, as he rolled onto his back. You frowned at him. His eyes were still closed, as if asleep, but he was grinning like mad. You slugged his shoulder as hard as you could.

"You're the worst actor I've ever met." Irritation crept into your voice, though you fought it.

"That's why I have become a pirate, lassy."

He now openly smirked at you, his gaze holding yours. The heat radiating of him easily seeped through the linen of your trousers and shirt. A long arm twined itself around your body. Shanks held you to his body, nuzzling your throat. Little clouds of hot air puffed against your skin. The heat and closeness made you uncomfortable, so you tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only held you closer. You intensified your struggling until your thigh brushed against something long and smooth. You immediately froze.

"Hush, lass. I though that was what you were looking for in the first place. But don't worry. I won't do anything you don't want me to." With those words he loosened his grip on you, so you could at least from his body. You were puzzled. You had wanted to enjoy this evening, not exactly getting laid. Your boyfriend had broken up with you, after nearly a year of relationship, not long ago. You weren't sure you were yet ready for that again. But the warmth of his body was hard to resist, so you huddled against him and ,as promised, he simply held you.

"I wanted to have some fun. But I'm not sure I wanted this fun. You know, toady is my birthday.", you whispered against his neck. He simply hmned and kissed the back of your hand, mumbling "Happy Birthday" against it. As he let your hand go, you started absent-mindedly tracing the scars on his chest. You weren't aware of the fine fluttering of his skin or his harsher breathing.

Suddenly, for you, he pulled you up against him, crushing his lips to you. You groaned. And without a thought you opened your lips and thrust your tongue into his mouth. He just as eagerly answered your demand. Dear, sweet Jesus in a hot-dog stand, that man knew how to kiss. Your experience was so far that men kissed to wet or too dry or they were clumsy or wanted to skip that part at all.

He alternated between short, light thrusts and flicks with the tip of this tongue and deep, long sweeps. He drove you crazy with the unpredictability of his movements. The pirate captain even drove you so far that you fisted his hair, growling into his mouth in need and pressing your body firmly against him, which made him smash his hips into your. Involuntary a moan escaped you. But it seemed that so far he was content to keep kissing you. When your lungs started burning you forcefully pulled away, gasping for much needed air. You tugged him closer again, growling "Oh, come on, you tease."

Shanks chuckled. "No I won't. Remember? I don't do anything, you don't want me to." You growled at him again, taking his length in a firm grip.

"So? I have to ask you nicely, huh? And you would do anything?" The pirate sharply sucked in his breath, nodding, as you started stroking him. With a long sweep you got rid off the offending blanket. He laid under you, golden skin, slightly marred with scars now and again. You left the bed to get rid of your borrowed top and trousers. Laying the linen back over the chair, you slowly turned around, holding the pirate's gaze as you stalked naked back to him.

His eyes narrowed slightly as you laid back next to him, settling your weight on elbows.

"You want to know what I want, now do you? I want you to kiss me. My whole body." He sensually smiled at you before claiming your lips again and kneeling between your thighs. The room was chilled due to the storm but his body heat fended off the cold. You casually caressed his legs with a foot and ran a hand through his hair.

When he left your mouth, time stopped. At the beginning your brain still recognized that he was trailing hot, wet kisses and nips and licks down your throat and collarbones. As soon he sucked one nipple deep into his mouth, skimming the sensitive flesh with his teeth, you melted into a puddle of sensations. The pirate took his time, switching between the two hard peaks, licking, caressing and kissing, until the sensations were so strong that they hurt and you kicked him lightly to make him stop.

Cupping a breast into his warm palm, he continued to lick down your stomach, flicking the tip of his tongue into your belly botton. It was not exactly a tickling feeling, but in response your whole body prickled. Running your hands trough his hair and over his shoulders, searching for something to hold on to, you slowly started to undulate your hips.

But he ignored your hint, switching from your lower abdomen directly to your thighs. Massaging the pale flesh he kissed and bite, licked and sucked, letting your nether lips tingling even stronger. In desperation you growled and tried to kick him, but he easily caught your foot.

"Where are your manners, lass? Are you not satisfied with my deeds?"

"You know what I want. So, please!" You growled at him in warning. You wanted his talented mouth to work you down there and you wanted it NOW.

But Shanks being Shanks he only chuckled. "No lassy, I do not know what you want. Tell me what is it?" He leaned over you, his face mere inches from yours, a hand still massaging a thigh. You sincerely hoped he wouldn't see how red you turned.

He wouldn't really want you say it out loud, now would he? The pirate hovered over you, ready to obey your very command for this night. You swallowed twice, trying to find the right words. It would be way easier if he wouldn't look at you that way.

"I can't say it!", you blurted out. Gently nuzzling your neck, he whispered into your ear.

"It is not so hard. Just say it." But you vehemently shook your head no.

The pirate let his hand slide from your thigh to you centre, barely touching, running a finger over it. In a hoarse, deep voice he asked you, his eyes fixed on your, his mouth maybe an inch away from yours.

"Do you want me here? Caressing you, licking you, kissing you here?" His words were accompanied by his thumb flicking over your clit and a long finger dipping slightly into you. You moaned out loud, nodding.

"Then say it."

Dear Gods, you simply couldn't say it. But it seemed there was no way around it. Your cheeks flush, you barely audible said _"Please, lick me." _Gods, this was so embarrassing. But it was obviously enough for him.

With a smile he went back into place, starting his pampering with a long, sure lick. If his mouth had felt good on your body, it felt absolutely unbelievable between your legs, doing things you wouldn't have though possible.

Oh Gods, did you love his mouth.

Continuing his exceptional torture, he had you soon writhing beneath him. Your hips were wildly bucking, your hands clenched into the sheets. You started loosing yourself. Your body thrummed with pleasure and you nearly reached the top of the cliff. That's when he stopped. You were half crazed with lust, the other half crazed with impatience.

Uncaring if you hurt him, you threw him onto his back, impaling yourself on him. Never have you felt so fulfilled. Savouring the feeling, you paused for a moment, before rhythmically starting to roll your hips forth and back. You braced your hands near the sides of his head, giving him a good view and yourself a better feeling.

You felt how your body started to hum with pleasure again, so you increased the tempo and depth. Now he started meeting you, slamming himself into you, making you moan and buck against him in absolute pleasure.

Your orgasm took you like a storm, making you throw your head back in utter abandonment. He held you firmly against him, erupting deep inside you. Gently he coaxed you to lay next to and not on him. Exhausted and satisfied you two fell finally asleep.

When you woke up the next morning alone, you were a little surprised. But you took a short shower and headed up into your borrowed clothes, ready to go back home. But when you were on deck everything surrounding you was blue. No sight of your home town.

As soon as Shanks spotted you he came over.

"Care to elaborate?" You might sound a bit snappish, but right now that was the least of your problems.

"Well, lass. Look. This morning we had a little run in with the Marines and therefore had to left the harbour immediately. We will bring you back as soon as we can, but until then you will be part of my pirate crew." Confidently he smiled at you.

You looked at him in complete bewilderment.

"WHAT?"


	4. Hawkeyes Mihawk

_N/A:_ Finally! I finished Mihawk. Trust me, this one was hard. So, sorry for my long absence .

**Triplet:** Old Friends – Ben, Shanks, Mihawk (Part III)

**Update: I worked this over. Lillith Kisaragi, you were right. This was rushed. Thanks for pointing out and hope you like this better. :) And your review certainly tops my list, so keep hanging on, will ya? ;)**

* * *

Not quite a Nightmare

The sun was shining pleasantly through the shutters. Lazily you opened your eyes to the twittering beyond your friend's window. You blinked once. Twice.

"Holy crap!" Jumping up from a lying position, entangled between the sheets, got you nearly a face first to the floor. Frantically trying to get out of the white piece of cloth, resulted for you in a bruise and your toe hitting the bed frame.

A stray thought made you stop your cursing and hopping around on one foot. It was nearly noon, so where the hell was your friend? She should have been back by now. Shouting her name, you move through the whole house, searching for her. To no avail.

A few minutes later you are dressed, tearing down the streets looking for your friend. By now the sun was burning down at your head and the salt from the ocean stung in your lungs as you reached the harbour. But the only thing you can see is a huge mass of blue and white.

Marines. Many, many, many, many, _many_ Marines.

A f***ing huge mass of Marines. Never before had you seen so many men in uniforms. Just where the hell were those coming from? There was no base nearby. And what were they doing here to start with?

An elderly woman, who had boats you could rent, comes towards you. You remember waving to her yesterday when your friend came to pick you up.

"Oh, Miss. Something terribly happened. Those horrible pirates took the girl you were meeting yesterday! Oh, it's so terrible."

You cocked your head. "Pirates?"

"Yes, this Yonkou, that landed yesterday evening. Red hair Shanks. A fearsome man, I've heard." The old woman was sniffling into her tissue. Actually you heard something quite different about that red haired Yonkou. To you he always seemed to be someone who was pretty laid back , friendly and would rather throw a party than fight. But at least now you knew whom to track.

A fire made your eyes blaze and the woman take a step back. Punching a fist into the air, you were determined to find the Yonkou, hence your friend and give her your best glare before hugging her to you and doing a happy dance, catch up and finally drive the pirate crew crazy. Better scratch the last part. Pumped up by adrenalin and energy you made way to your little boat.

Though soon you were stopped by the thick of Marines. You tried, but failed, a few times, trying to get right through that mass of bodies. With an extremely brutal insertion of your elbows to help matters, you were able to move yourself a bit into the mass of bodies. At this rate it couldn't be long. Or so you thought. Suddenly the Marines stopped moving altogether. And they seemed to ignore your best methods. Just when you were about ready to scream your way through the people out of frustration, the bodies parted before you. Looking for the source of the sudden reaction, you found it right behind you.

A man, surrounded by a black, oh-so-dramatic-swishy cloak, upper body laid back, glaring at the Marines. Hawkeyes Mihawk.

Oh.

For Heaven's sake, what was it with those thrust forward hips? Seriously. And all this drama. Yeah, he was dangerous and badass. Pity he seems to know. Oh bugger. He was standing there, dressed completely in black, looking all mysterious and smooth, which made you feel like being caught in a bad remake of some cheesy fantasy love story. Ah damn, your gagging reflex was announcing its existence.

Before you could throw up or make up your mind about how you liked this situation and what your next move was, he was only a breath away, grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him without so much as a spare glance at you, like you were some unruly brat.

In that second you decided that you didn't like him. Basta.

Being dragged along afforded you time enough to check him out. You may not like it, but he was probably known as one of the hottest guys on this side of the grandline. He looked good. Obviously. He had a mysteriously charm. Certainly. The grip of those large, warm, coarse hands around your arm made you very aware of his body close to you. You were a fool, if you wouldn't. So? You didn't like him and that was that. But at least nobody could say, that you didn't know how to use opportunity.

He didn't stop. Didn't let you go. Not until you were on his cranky little boat and at least 10 minutes out of harbour. He sat on his throne, his sword resting against the back of the wood. You tried talking to him. He just stared you down. So you stared back. After at least another ten minutes you had this urge to point a finger at his face and say "You blinked. Loser.", but he was still a shichibukai and probably ate women like you for breakfast. So you resisted.

Another half an hour in deadly silence, you guessed that you two weren't really starting off on good terms. Settling back in his chair, glaring at you, he asked in a deep, gruff voice "What was that supposed to be? That at the harbour. You looked ridiculous trying to get through them. Where were you going?"

"To my boat. I'm on a mission." You lean back against the railing, pushing you feet against the throne between his feet. Folding your arms in front of you, you glared back.

"I know. You are looking for that girl Shanks took with him. Friend of yours?" He carefully folded his hands in his lap. Watching you.

"If you know everything, why are you asking? You probably are already on the way to wherever this Shanks-guy is." You sighed.

"Why do you ask, if you already know?" You could hear the chuckle in his voice, but he only leaned back, his hat comes to rest in front of his face.

"Eh? You kidding?" You jumped up, which got the tiny dingy rocking from side to side.

"Sit down!" he snarled at you from beyond his hat with that funny, bushy feather-thingie-whatever. One thing made you halt for a second. Where could one get such fancy hats?

So you sat back down, not feeling like going for an accidental dive today. Some time you stared off at the ocean. Then you spend some time staring off at him. You tried to nap like him. It nearly worked. _Nearly_ being the keyword. But you end up walking around his throne in pure boredom. After your 23rd circle around him, he grabs you and pulls you onto his lap. Holding you there, going back to sleep. You could swear he is snoring! But unfortunately the ocean is too loud.

You lift his hat and move your ear closer to his mouth. Who could have guessed? The ever-so-great Mihawk is snoring! Giggling in glee you couldn't wait to tell your friend. And Shanks. Boy, would they get a laugh out of this. So wrapped up in trying to create the coolest comment on Hawk Eyes's sleeping habbit you were, that him licking your earshell made you fall of his lap.

Oooh, such a smug smirk. You would immediately punch it off, but then you would certainly have a horde of angry-as-hell fangirls after you. And only women know just how scary women can be. Though where was the point to having screeching groupies. That was so outdated.

You crawled back onto his lap, snatching his hat out of his grip. An irritated Mihawk looked down at you. "Well, you Mister", pointing a finger directly in his face, "are having an Image problem." His eyebrows were raised higher an higher, making you wonder whether or not they would hit his hairline eventually. Gods, he looked sort of like a lost puppy! So you elaborated. "Ah, look at it like this. First. You're hot, but all those crazy, swooning, drooling fangirls in the background are irritating. Second. You are supposed to be the headstrong lone wolf. But that doesn't mean you can come and go without a sound. You have to learn how to enter scene." Mihawk was nodding while probably not even listening to you.

"You need dynamite."

That sure got his attention. "Dynamite?", he asked. You fervently nodded. "Yeah. You need dynamite. Take it from a woman that knows her craft."

"Which craft?"

"You were not listening, were you?"

"No."

Yep, you had thought so.

Seeing no other option, you cuddle close to his warmth, pulling your jacket up to your ears. Though you gave him your best pout, he took his hat from you. How dare he! And back he went to sleep. What an insolent …you couldn't find a word. You really were that angry. Miffed, you tried to sleep as well. There wasn't really much around. Just a lot of blue. Yet the sun prevented you from actually falling asleep.

Thinking him in the lands of dreams, you simply nagged his hat. Though you certainly had to do something about that irritating feather. It was tickling your nose. Such an annoyance. Flipping it into Mihawk's face was just the tiniest bit better. What surprised you, when pressing the hat onto your face was the smell that invaded your nose. It was a mixture of mint, lavender and something utterly sweet. You giggled at the thought of Mihawk holding a pink bottle containing a sweet smelling liquid in his hand, probably singing away on some silly pop song like "I'm too sexy for my shirt. So sexy it hurts...". Then what would he dream of? A pony named Princess Moon Sparkle and a big choco-cake?

You sniggered madly. Got you felt so sick suddendly. Fever! It was all the fever's fault anyway. Just then you felt a warm breath at your neck and a deep voice growling in mock threat "Just what are you laughing at?" You looked up at him from under the way-too-big brim, seeing one eyebrow raised at you, eyes still half-lidded from sleep. For one second your brain went blank. And then all those pictures came back to you. To his bewilderment you roared with laughter, shaking so hard you nearly fell of his lap again, his precious hat dangling damn close to the water. He hoped that you didn't let it fall. You were in absolute hysterics. Even when it stopped being funny, your body just could not stop it. You were trapped in a worst-case-fit of laughter.

Eventually you calmed down to a periodic giggle. Still waiting for an answer he prompted "So?". Waving your hands in an gesture of peace, slightly sniggering "You don't really want to know." Complete silence dominated the scene for a moment before he uttered an "Ah", snatched his hat from hand, which was clutching it to your chest, and went back to sleep yet again. You began wondering if that man did anything else.

You couldn't really remember falling asleep, but you did, for when you woke up it's the darkest night and you were under his cloak, feeling the blood pound under his skin against your finger tips. You tried not to move. But you were always scared of darkness. The darkness itself wasn't that bad. It was more your inability to see clearly that scared you. You simply were one of these people that preferred to be in control of yourself and that just doesn't work when you can't see your own hand. Not only was the sky above you pitch black, but the water under you as well. Successfully shielding everything from your view.

A whimper escaped your throat. You felt his body moving against you. Did you wake him up? Oh no! You made your muscles freeze. But his head turned to yours. His moustache scratching against your overheated skin. You closed your eyes, your blood pulsing in your ears by heat and panic. Your muscles twitched due to the strain of being taut for a long time.

"Can't sleep?" he whispered hoarsely against your ear, his breath slid along your sensitive neck. You just shook your head, turning into him, pressing your head against his shoulder. Mihawk just curled his hand around your neck, letting a finger draw circles along the skin. You relaxed against the small caress, your lips slid along his skin, making you aware, that you pressed against his naked torso.

But he just held you tighter to him. Caressing your arm languidly. Inhaling the scent of you hair. Lips were skimming your hairline. Pressing subtle kisses against your forehead. You relaxed back into him.

"Relax. You are safe with me.", he purred into your ear.

And indeed the small caresses calmed you to the point of becoming sleepy. Just when you are short of falling asleep, something hits the boat. The wood shakes and a dull sound reaches your ears.

You basically scratch his shoulders, screaming "What was that?" Mihawk just shrugged, wanting your nails to dislodge from his shoulders. "Probably just a Sea King."

"What? Holy Shiii...Mmpf" You screech, before turning into stone. He wasn't kissing you, was he? Hell, you were out on the ocean, in the middle of the night, trying to find your friend, sitting on a Shichibukai's lap, who had so much as kidnapped you. And that guy was kissing you! And probably kissing you just to shut you up.

Why didn't someone tell you that sooner. Heck, you wouldn't ever had to learn all those come-on-phrases! What a waste of time.

Before your mind has a chance to start working, your body has completely taken over, responding to the call of his lips moving against yours seductively. You are kissing him back before you even realise doing it. One arm supporting your back, his other hand curls in your hair, pulling you even further into the kiss. You kicked your mind out of the business, when it came nagging at you, that this was wrong, that he was just playing with you, that you were at his mercy. You feel his hand hesitantly crawling under your shirt and under your bra, palming your heated breast in his slightly colder hand. The cool touch makes you gasp, giving him the chance to let his tongue slide into your mouth. The feel of tongues sliding against each other earns him a heartfelt groan.

His fingertips are sliding over your nipple. Toying with it. Pinching it. Twisting it. Pulling slightly at it. Before moving onto the other. You gasp as he playfully bites your earlobe. You bite his lip as payback. Which makes him chuckle, but returning to kissing you. When you feel his hand sliding away from your breast you press them against him. Showing him, you want more. But he continues on his way southwards.

With a small twist of his hand the belt buckle is loose. But he stops to play along the rim of your pants.

You punch him in the shoulder for it. If he starts it, he damn well better finishes it as well!

His hand, cooled by the night air, ever so slowly slights over your skin, palming your mound, while his other hand moves from your back, around it to your breast, massaging it through the clothes. You reward him with sucking at his lips and sliding your hands over his skin.

Slowly he lets one long finger move over the shaved skin, feeling the soft, smooth structure of your skin, before plunging in. A sharp intake of breath separates your lips.

His breathless chuckle sounds more like a purr. His lips attack the skin visible above your shirt. You moan as he nips at your collar bones teasingly, while he inserts two fingers into you, his coarse thumbs massaging your clit.

He shows patience, when you desperately twist around in his lap, searching for even more friction. Persistence when you beg him to stop, because you think you will explode. Stamina, bringing you to the borders of sanity, before collapsing against his body, your skin shivering with emotions more intense than his gaze.

You are sweaty, still half-closed and completely spent. Tired as you are, your eyes close on their own. Your body still soaking in his warmth. As you slip off to dreamland, you have to admit that he certainly knows his craft. Damn sexy sod.

The next noon, brings you a little island with the ship you were hunting down. Mihawk is sauntering behind you, quite amused, Shanks men stumbling away from your fury. You enter the glade with a roar. You friend, currently leaning against Shanks' side gapes at you in suprise. You must present quite the picture. Mussed hair, rumpled clothes, eyes blazing.

You point an accusing finger at her and shout in fury:

"You! You...could at least have left me a message!"

Discreetly in the background Mihawk is enquiring from Ben about different uses for dynamite.


	5. Marco I

New chapter finally up!

You know the game: R&R and you get more. ;-)

Triplet: Commanders – Marco, Ace, Thatch (Part I a)

* * *

##-...-##~~Marco~~##-…-##

**Silly bubbles**

It had been a passing fancy. That sentence was the only thing keeping yourself from kicking your own ass. Really, how could you? Sure, that guy hadn't been an eye catcher in the big book of life. But to you he was the hottest cat around town. Rather, had been.

Pirates came and went. That was their nature. And you had been fool enough to set your eyes on one. Or more like glued them onto him. It had been a passing fancy. It had been a passing fancy. It had been a passing fancy. That sentence over and over again. You should have jumped him the second you had seen him.

'Cause it hadn't been more than a second really. A buzzing street. Your shoulder hitting his. Turning around to apologize. He was not much taller than you and quiet lean, if not a bit gangly. Tanned and an ugly pink open shirt. An rumpled touch of blond hair. Haggard features, eyes half closed. Like not a damn thing in the world could bother him. Blue eyes twinkling at you, full lips lifted at one corner.

It wasn't like he was unattractive per se. He sure wasn't handsome the way that got girls drooling all over the place, but he had an earthy charm – like kissing him would be second nature. A man who didn't need all the parading around and flirty winks you saw the young men displaying. He didn't need attention. That man would simply sweep you off your feet. Without the big scene.

Stunned you had simply walked home that day thinking _'What a man.'_ You had just walked into a dream of man and then kept on walking in the other direction. Yeah, so smart. Since then you had wished your own skinny ass into hell more than once. You know how they always say: You can truly appreciate something when it is gone? Damn, were they right. Silently you vowed to (at least sometimes) listen to your elders.

In the weeks after, you had to admit to yourself that you would probably have not seen him at all, if not for the incident, since he wasn't a show-off nor an beau. But maybe you just didn't get him right. For all you know your first impression could have manipulated the picture of him. Wishing not the first time for a photo to check. Well at least another than his wanted poster, that you snatched up at the small police station in town.

At least now you knew his name. Big, bold letters displayed it every time you went to the poster, pinned on the wall over your bed, for a bit of ogling your man. Marco, the Phoenix.

The rain was pouring down this evening, making you wish to stay in the store you worked at. Even the cats and dogs had sought out cover under various roofs or otherwise covered spaces. With as much pep as an old toast you wrapped yourself up in your favourite jacket. Twisting the soft, purple scarf twice around your neck before feeling ready to brave that awful weather beyond the shop's window.

Tired of yet another uneventful day of pleasant 'Hello', 'Good bye', and 'What can I get you?', you turned the hot water on, opened the bathroom window for the water haze and stepped under the shower.

As the warm water ran down your body, you sniffed at your newest shower gel. A clean, fresh smell that sort of reminded you of freshly washed bed sheets. It was one of your odd habits. Never using the same shower gel twice, that is. Variety was the spice in your life and you wanted it everywhere. Even your shower gel.

Humming a catchy tune you had picked up at the radio today, you went to scrubbing down your body until your skin turned slightly pink by the heat and your sponge. While you were happy with your new shower gel, you absolutely loved your shampoo. It was as blue as his eyes and smelled of coconuts. Since you found it, you hadn't changed it once. It just stuck with you. Breathing the scent in deeply, you began lathering your hair.

Another song popped up in your mind, one of your favourites as well, making you sing out loud the lyrics and move around in some sort of dance, hopping from one foot to the other, moving your arms around wildly, shimmering your hips. Rocking out in your shower. Damn, you just loved this song.

Your shampooed strands of hair were sent flying around your head, some successfully landing in your eyes. Oh, that was burning like hell. You broke off mid-performance, frantically trying to get all lather bubbles away from your face. Your eyes were still stinging, making you cringe, even it wasn't still as bad. But you hated it when lather got into your eyes. You sort of sniffed in annoyance. A pout forming on your lips, while one hand was twisting a strand of wet hair around a finger.

To prevent further problems, you angled the spray down to rinse your hair out, muttering about damn silly bubbles causing only problems.

So you bent down, both hands pressed against the shower wall, the water running over your shoulders and back, taking those offending bubbles with it down the drain. Absent-minded you rolled your shoulders forth and back, the hot water easing the ache between your shoulder blades. The sky outside was pitch black. Cold air and some rain droplets entering your bathroom through the open window, once in a while some errant, chilly wind gust moving over you body, making it shiver. Moving your whole body back under the spray, you felt a numbing fatigue washing over you.

You closed your eyes, angling your face into the water, wishing for your warm bed. Although your bed would be even more preferable if you had a certain hot someone in there to cuddle up to. Usually thinking of him was annoying, but right now, tired as you were, it just made you sad.

With arms like a lead weight, you pushed your hair back, your hands trailing over your shoulder, collarbones, coming to rest over your breasts. You sighed. More often than not in the last few weeks you had dreamed of him, usually touching yourself to the images. You were sure, that doing it now, would probably bring you an orgasm as always when you thought about him, but at a bittersweet cost. Feeling lost, alone and cold later.

With an will on their own your fingers started to follow the running water in idle pattern. Smoothly gliding over your heated skin. You imagined him standing somewhere in the bathroom, watching you. Your skin prickled at idea of his searing eyes on your flushed skin. Moving over your curves like the most sinful touch.

While one hand continued to run idle patters over your breasts and tummy, the other cupped a breast from underneath, gently squeezing the round mound of flesh. You sighed inwardly at the soft touch, your skin oh so sensitive because of the heated water. Your forefinger running slow circles around the nipple, gently teasing the aureole to hardness. All the while imagining him sitting in front of you on his knees, watching from underneath a wet, dark blond patch of hair, licking his lips, his hungry eyes devouring you.

The raw hunger in his eyes made your breath hitch. Your other hand moved up to massage your other breast, now both securely in your grasp. How wonderful it would feel for his tongue to move in the small crevice between your pushed up breasts. His heated flesh pressing between your globes. With one hand you pinched a nipple hard, making you hiss in pleasure and a tingling start between your legs.

Right now you would have bet that your heard him groan. Squeezing your breasts, you resumed your actions. Switching between gently, slow touches, sharp pinches and your nails raking over the stiff flesh, making your head tip back. Oh how you would love him to kiss and lave at the vulnerable skin of your exposed neck. Him not being able to touch you otherwise.

You imagined him before you. Pressed flush against the shower wall, arms hooked lazily over the spray, water dribbling down his lean body, watching you with hooded eyes. Daring you to tease him more. Droplets running from a tanned neck, over accentuated collarbones. A few precious ones dropping from his aroused nipples. Others running over the planes of his abdomen, highlighting any and every rippling muscle, rolling further down to be caught in his blond pubic hair.

With time ticking away the tingling became stronger. Mirroring the droplets way on your own body, one sneaky hand moved down your tummy, caressing one thigh, seducing it to open up, the other still fondling its breasts, continuing the sweet torture. A desperate gasp left your throat, followed by a whimper, unable to deny what body and mind craved.

Finding purchase on the shower tray, you rested one foot on it, hissing as its hot skin came in contact with the cold tiles. That devious hand of yours took the chance to move to the inside of the thigh, leaving a maddening tingling in its wake as it danced over the sensitive skin. You groaned as a picture of Marco's hands gliding over your skin popped into your head. Tentative a single finger pad moved back and forth over your nether lips, not yet parting them. The sensation made you moan, feeling heat engulfing your body. Another pinch to the nipple made you throw your head back, panting into the silence of the room. A male gasp echoing in your head.

The finger pad never stopped its motion until your legs started to tingle in sensation, making you unsure if you could keep your balance. Carefully your forefinger slipped inside, letting you feel your own heat. Your head lolled onto one shoulder, eyes closed in contentment. Like a pendulum your finger moved up and down your cleft, never touching your clit for long. Your other hand moved down your body, gently stroking the leg you rested your weight on. Sometimes brushing your public bone.

Slowly your forefinger moved to your clit. First circling around it, then gently caressing it, fanning the fire of your arousal with the lightest of touches and images of Marco on his knees before you, head leaning on your thigh, leering up at you. Taunting you with the pleasure not given. Lips every so often trailing over the skin between thigh and vagina. His kisses making you go crazy.

Luxuriously slowly you fastened the gentle caresses, feeling your body start to quiver. Your pulse pounding louder and louder in your ears as you the sensations built up inside you. Your head caught in your lust, your body urging you to go faster. Seeking more hold, your other hand reaching for the tap above you, holding desperately onto it, your back arching forwards. Your forefinger left your clit in small circles, seeking the entrance to your body.

Playing at the rim, teasing yourself further, before, with one smooth move, plunging in. A strangled moan of ecstasy escaped your lips, all muscles straining with pleasure, the hot running water rushing over your clit electrifying. The first plunge had always been the most sensual to you, turning your composure to pudding.

Again you imagined the raspy gasp of your man. Your blood boiling. With practise your hand started to move, letting the finger move in and out, your thumb caressing your clit. Soon your middle finger joined your forefinger. Desperate for your climax. The pleasure making you mad. Even making you feel a second pair of hands that played over your body, touching slippery skin, pinching your nipples, massaging your clit. But you couldn't care less as your climax took you. Your eyes closed and panting by the intensity.

Strong arms wound themselves around you, a hard body pressing against your back. Still caught in your ecstasy you vaguely wondered if dreams became true. The arms tightened around your still shaking body, a husky male voice uttered into your ear: "Took me a while to find you. But never mind. 'Though, let me make up for the nice show, eh?"

Shocked you turned around. The second you say that blond mop of hair you pounced.

No need to make a mistake twice, hm?

* * *

A/N: Ah, that was sort of sappy and short, wasn't it? Sorry, can't really help the girly mood right now. Wondering if I should give Marco another go sometime later?


	6. Marco II

A/N: This will follow from where I stopped with our dear Commander the last time.

Triplet: Commanders – Marco, Ace, Thatch (Part I b)

**Lilith: Making out in the shower? Naughty. Here you go!**

* * *

#-…-#-…-Marco II-…-#-…-#

Bubble-fun in the shower

Your movement send both of you tumbling to the ground, but you couldn't have cared less. The second you lay atop his delicious, hot and hard body with your own slippery frame, you searched his mouth kissing him like a woman starved. Strong hands gripped your hips, forcefully pulling you against him before slightly easing up to be able to sit up.

But still you followed his moves, straddling his legs, kissing him like there is no tomorrow.

Unfortunately he had to pull away, panting harshly, cupping your chin with one of his dark, broad, rough hands, the pat of his thumb gently massaging your lower lip. Still a bit out of breath, he chuckled.

"Wow, now I do feel welcome. Still, you got me all wet. If I don't want to catch a cold, I'll need to change out of my clothes."

Still with you sitting slightly perplexed on his lap he started peeling off the pink, open shirt. Revealing more well trained, masculine, tanned skin. A salty but musky scent reaching your nose. As your brain got control again, you first registered the cold air hitting your still wet and warm skin, which made you shiver. Suddenly completely cooled down, you understood the words he just spoke. You lurched upwards, pulling him with you. While your skin was still sort of pinkish from the hot shower, you could feel your face turn beet red. Speaking faster than thinking, you tumbled over your words.

"Oh My Gosh! I'm soooooooo sorry. I really didn't mean to…Give me those! I will hang them away to dry. Am really so sorry. Don't know whether or not I got anything around that might fit you…Just give me a moment…."

You grabbed his shirt and shorts and made a dash to your room to put them over a stool to dry. Then you went came to halt in front of your wardrobe. The only thing fitting you found were your favourite, oldest, worn, black, long pair of comfy pants. You had pinched them years ago from your older brothers, who had used them for training.

Tapping back to the bathroom, the pants clutched tightly in one hand, you knew you had to step under the shower again, due to feeling the tiniest bit cold. Who were you kidding? You were freezing.

When you stepped into the room again, an unexpected sight caught your eyes. Marco was standing under your shower, currently soaping up one long, tensely corded, well-muscled arm. Having been hypnotized where you stood, your eyes travelled from his arm, over his neck, admiring his broad back, down to his lovely, shapely ass. And what an ass it was. You would kill for one like that. Somewhere in the back of your mind you found the thought of biting into those round, solid, yummy globes intriguing.

At the sound of the door shutting behind you, he turned around. Smiling sweetly at you, like he didn't just catch you ogling his backside, he asked you to put the pants just over there and join him, since you seemed to be getting cold.

Kinda out of your element, you followed his suggestion, not looking up at him. But as you closed the shower behind you, he put an arm around you middle, pulling you closer to him, while the other mover to your cheek, gently turning it towards him. At the first contact with your clammy, chilled skin, he hissed. But that only seemed to strengthen his resolve to warm you, making him pull you against him even more.

His lips meanwhile moved lightly over your cheek and neck. As he moved them away to kiss you fully, his eyes went big the second he saw your red eyes. Sorrow settled on his features, cradling your head gently in one hand, his eyes searching for an answer. But you just looked up at him, your hands settled on his shoulders, totally confused about the change in him. It irritated you to the extent that you asked him what was wrong.

"Your eyes, eh. They are all red and puffy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your mind tried to make sense of his observation. You gaped at him.

"Well no, you did nothing wrong. And while it is really sweet, don't be ridiculous. I just got soap into my eyes earlier. That is everything there is."

Your slight irritation made him smile. Happy that he hadn't done anything to drive you away from him, he leaned down. Just short of your own lips he stopped, mumbling something about kissing it better, before his hot lips descended down onto yours. The steam and hot water that washed over part of your body, made you feel dizzy, the world around you spinning. Instinctly you pressed against him. The feeling of his hard contours pressed against your overly rounded, full curves and your tongues dancing wildly together even more dazzling. You moaned feeling his arousal pressed against your hip.

Just as you started discovering the lines of his chest, he stepped away. You sighed in defeat, but didn't particularly mind at the lusty grin he send your way. He held out your shower gel to you.

"It's been a long journey for me and I find myself weary beyond belief. Would you mind washing me? For I cannot find the energy for it within me."

You completely ignored the fact that you would usually consider such a statement as plotting, manipulation or what else and just grabbed the gel, preparing to soap him up. Uncaring that he had done just that a few moment earlier, seeming to be able to do it just fine, as you stepped into the bathroom. If he wanted to play it this way, you were willing to go along.

Pouring a small amount into your hand, you knelt down before him and began soaping and massaging one foot, moving slowly up his leg to his hips, just to bend down again with new shower gel. When you considered his legs clean and relaxed enough you stood up, catching smokey, lusty eyes watching your every move from under dripping, dark blond hair. You couldn't remember a time you had felt more womanly or good.

Ignoring the plea in his eyes, you took the shower gel again, making him extend one arm at a time to make him even cleaner. Though with the more skin you lathered in bubbles, the dirtier your thoughts became. Making you come up with a nice little game. Maybe even more evil than his.

You ordered him around, moving your hands more slowly over his back. First caressing the muscles of his neck until they became loose under your fingertips. Then you started to move your hands over his shoulders back and forth. The movement getting wider and wider. First you would lather and massage his pectorals, every so often accidentally moving over his stiff nipples, than travel up over his collarbones, over his shoulders and upper arms, down the shoulder blades. A long groan, that you could feel vibrating under your fingertips, escaped into the air. Obviously he agreed with you that now his upper half was clean enough.

Satisfied with your work, you stepped back a bit, letting cool shower gel drip onto his buttocks. You definitely enjoyed working the lather into the skin of his buttocks and loins. Pouring a last little amount into your hands, you moved back, pressing your front against his back, starting to slowly rub circles over his hips and lower abdomen. Sometimes letting your fingers stray from their way, discovering the skin close by.

You were nearing the final tease, thus pressed your face into his shoulder, grinning into his skin. Pressing closer to his body, you moved your hands just so that only your fingertips and nails would connect with his skin. Then, starting from his navel, you followed a curly patch of hair down, combing through it. You savoured the muscles twitching under your ministration, the gasps, the groans and the small bucks of his hips.

Feeling very smug about it, you dragged your nails narrowly down next to his arousal. The heat radiating from your warm, wet, slippery hands the only things that reached it. Much to his frustration. As you sensually caressed the joint between hip and thigh, something in him broke loose. He took your hand, putting it over his hard, hot rod, keeping his hand over yours. At the contact his head was thrown back, one sexily moaned 'Fuck' leaving his lips. You got him and you were damn proud of it.

Eventually he turned around. And you stopped grinning. There was an animalistic lust and fire blazing in his eyes. Gripping your hips, he smashed them against his own, bucking against them, seeking friction, while kissing you wildly. For a few moments you tried to keep up with his passion, but then decided to let his tongue dominate yours. Your surrender egged him on.

Pressing you against the tiles, he broke the kiss. Seeing you so out of breath made him grin. With trepidation and excitement you waited for whatever he would do. For you were sure you would enjoy it. You were perplexed, when he knelt down, the bottle of shower gel in his hands. '_Oh no!_' barely crossed your mind, when he started to wash a calve and foot. Setting the clean foot onto his knee, his hands wandered upwards the underside of your thigh. His head resting on your bent knee, leering up at you as his still soapy hands groped and caressed your fleshy thigh.

Hooking one hand under your knee, he pushed your leg up just a bit higher. Making you grab onto the spray for support. You were fascinated by the hooded, passionate, calculating eyes. As he turned his face towards your leg, inching a bit closer, your eyes followed. The moment his tongue flicked out to lick at the skin of your inner thigh and teeth nibbled at a particularly sensitive spot, you knew that you had lost.

Each hand caressed a thigh, but he had more mercy than you, at least placing feather light kisses on your nether lips and licking away the water drops, continuing upward over your hips to your breasts. Both arms were thrown around your middle as he pressed his face against your belly. He stayed there a for a bit, before cupping on breast with a hand, the other arm still around you, holding you close.

He looked up with so much adoration and want, that you felt like a goddess. Gently you swiped away a stray strand of hair, trailing over his nose and delicious lips, which captured it. It was sucked gently into his mouth, his hot, agile tongue caressing the sensitive skin, making everything inside you tingle. Letting go of the digit, he still held eye contact.

Like in a dream you watched him move a bit upwards and take one aureole into his mouth. As soon as the sinful lips closed around it, you groaned. Gods, what that man was doing! He took his time playing around with it. Rolling it forth and back, gently biting and nibbling, sucking like a baby on it. You moaned in ecstasy. Combing fingers through his hair, you held his head close, not wanting the sensation to stop. But eventually he switched to the other breast, but keeping the first occupied with clever fingers that flicked, pulled and pinched.

You now desperately held onto the spray, moaning incoherently. A combination of nibbling and flicking made you moan his name. To your utter dismay, he left his position and stood up.

Even when the hot water was still washing over you, you felt cold without his body close. Needy you stretched out your hand, beckoning him closer. And he came closer again. Pinning you between the wall and his body.

Your hands moved on their own to his buttocks, squeezing. His hands cradled your hips close to his. Your eyes met, lips hovering just beyond reach. He lifted both of your legs up around his hip. One of your hands seeking the spray to hold onto, the other gripped his shoulder. You could feel his arousal pressing against your most private place, feeling it pulse and thrum. Still looking deep into his eyes, you kissed him. Just then he moved you just so, that he could enter you. Good God, a blessing that you were kissing him or your moan would have woken the whole house!

He first began with shallow, short thrusts. Experimenting and asserting that he was steady enough. When he was sure your legs would stay locked, he let his body weight crush you against the wall, taking your hand and holding over your hand as continued to push back into you. Pinned as you were, you could do nothing but moan his name when he bit your neck. Hickies would be very visible for the next days but you didn't care as you were flying higher and higher. The emotions stronger than ever since you were still overly sensitive from your first orgasm. Suddenly you felt an enormous wave crash over you, making your body clench and spasm. So intense no sound could leave your throat. You heard him moan against your neck, as he joined you in heaven.

He gently dried you off, while you were doing him the same favour. You were slipping into your baggy sleeping shirt, while he hopped into your comfy pants. Taking his hands you lead him towards your bedroom. Tired as you were, you crawled without much thought into your bed and he followed. As you were about to drift off, you heard a throat clearing. Blinking up at him, you followed his gaze up to his wanted poster over your bed.

You groaned. As he was about to open his mouth you said: "Just don't. Please." And snuggled up to him with which he gratefully complied. He never said anything about that poster. Not so when a few weeks later you got a new wanted poster per mail with a new picture on the front and a short message to you on the back, saying: 'Better than the old one. But don't like it too much. 'Course I'll be stopping over next month.'


	7. Ace

Summary: Warmth is just a tempered flame.

Triplet: Commanders – Marco, Ace, Thatch (Part II)

**Updated version!**

Beware: Line means change in point of view.

* * *

Heat of the Night

He was so pissed with Marco. The first commander of the Whitebeard Pirates had insisted on needing a vacation and their pops was far from denying his son such a wish. But, with a lot of Marines around this area, he had put the condition upon Marco to take at least two others from the crew with him. And now Thatch and Ace were stuck on some small, boring island. With just one bar. And while Ace found the food to be acceptable, the booth just sucked.

It was obviously a quiet night. The bar tender polished glasses, since Ace and Thatch were the only current customers. Not even a pretty bar wench here. And Thatch was continuing to bitch about having to come along when tonight would have been his regular, monthly Poker Night with Jozu and Vista. Somehow Ace wasn't as opposed to having a narcoleptic fit as usual. The evening wore on and near midnight the tavern filled a bit with some sailors, fishers and town folk. A definitely feminine giggling reached Ace's ears.

Turning around on his stool, he spied a giggling, young couple entering, followed by a less the thrilled looking woman. He observed how she combed through her short, spiky, blond hair in annoyance. She was chewing on a thin lower lip, hands always in movement, like she was desperately trying not to throttle one of the flirting teenagers. Ace noticed how her knee-length skirt and sheer blouse made her athletic build look womanlier. Her slightly larger feet wore a pair of elegant dark heels. If he concentrated hard enough, he could hear their clicking on the floor.

Eyes roaming he caressed her legs with his eyes. For her calves were shapely, maybe even a bit too muscled and hard for a woman. But thanks to her heels, men would only describe them as well formed and long. Then he came to the swinging hem of her simple skirt, which floated around her knees. Kittenish shadows playing over the tanned skin. Making him curios. But as he was denied by the green cloth, his eyes continued upwards over it to where a light, sheer white fabric lay over it.

His brown eyes feasted on the light shimmer of golden skin under the nearly see-through material. Her abdomen was flat and her breast round but sort of flat as well. He guessed, that they probably wouldn't even be a handful. The glinting of small golden buttons making his eyes stay a moment. A row of pale pearls around her neck invited him with their seductive glow to touch. He followed the curve from strong shoulders to a long, slim neck. Her face was heart-shaped with shapely, thin lips the colour of raspberries and big, round, brown eyes surrounded by long, sooty lashes.

Nervously long, delicate fingers tugged at different strands of hair. The couple had settled down in a quiet corner. The woman was following. Her unsteady, swaying, stumbling movements showed clearly that she was not used to walking on heels. The way the woman settled opposite the couple, her back to him, shoulders stiff told Ace that she was a chaperone. He didn't know anyone would still practice this tradition of sending an overseer with a couple. To some degree he pitied her. It was an ungrateful job.

Turning around he noticed that his companion had left the table. Not like Ace missed the constant bitching. Sometime he could swear that Thatch should have been born a woman. Scanning the crowd for his fellow commander, Ace found him sitting at the bar talking to a woman wearing a long, sort of military-looking, dark blue coat. Deeming Thatch occupied enough to not have to mind him, Ace turned back to his table of interest. He was observing the happening from under the rim of his orange hat, nursing his cool sake.

Anyone walking in would probably think that he was obsessed with something by the way he kept starring at the woman's back. Hell, even Ace was surprised that she hadn't turned around by now. But since it suited him just fine, he couldn't really mind. He saw them ordering drinks and the woman excusing herself, when the drinks were about half drained. As soon as the door to the loo clicked close, the couple drank their orders in one swift move, leaving money with the barman before making a dash for the door.

This gave Ace an unexpected opening. He grabbed his drink and moved over to the little table. Sitting down like he just got here. And sure enough a few moments later the woman came back, startled at the new person sitting at the table. Pretending not to see her pulling her hair in frustration, he looked around the bar. He noticed Thatch nowhere to been seen and congratulated his friend on obviously getting laid tonight. And if everything worked out the way he wanted it to, he would have a very inviting bed tonight as well.

The woman came to a stop before him. A light, spicy scent teasing his nostrils.

* * *

As you came back from refreshing yourself, you found your little sister and her date gone. Instead there sat a young, tanned man. Shirtless and a strange orange hat perched on a wild mob of black, messy locks. Freckles decorated his face, arms and torso. And you were damn sure that he sat just a few tables down, closer to the bar, before. You walked over to him.

"Weren't you just over there?" Indicating with your thumb over your shoulder, that you wouldn't buy whatever he tried. Waving you hand in the direction of the tabletop, you asked: "And what happened to them?" Indulgently he smiles up you, not fazed by your tone.

Licking the last drops away from the rim of his glass, he answers: "Oh, they just took a little walk down the street after finishing their drinks. Why don't you sit down? The booth doesn't come cheap despite the lacking quality and half a drink is just a waste of money."

Softly you cursed your sister up and down. Your mother would surely have your hide for not watching her precious little darling more closely. You considered your glass. Silently you mulled over his words. Half a drink really was a waste of money. You sat down.

His logic simply beat every spontaneous argument you would have come up with anyway.

* * *

Ace was pleased when she settled down in her chair, but began to frown because she continued to ignore him. So he tries all those little tricks he had learned so far.

Small talk. She really didn't respond. Jokes. She laughs at some. Her sweet, quiet, light laugh delightening him. He moves closer to her, but it doesn't make her warm up to him. Dreadfully Ace watches her swallow the last of her drink. As she is about to stand up, he's up to his feet, next to her, pulling her chair out for her.

He doesn't quite know why he reacts that way. While pleasing to his eyes and certainly stirring his blood, he feels uncomfortable by her cold and distant behaviour. During their little talk he got to know that that other girl was her younger sister,that she was supposed to have an eye on. Especially since the streets were dangerous at night. Especially with unknown men around.

Before his muddled brain started working normally, he already had invited to bring her home and to his utter confusion the woman just rolls her eyes at him but doesn't try to stop him. And why had his heart just made a happy skip?

* * *

You kept up a light talk with the stranger as he followed you. All the while you were musing why you hadn't immediately shot him down when he tried to flirt with you. He's a gorgeous example of maleness, an Adonis some would say. You have to admit to yourself that you sort of liked the easy banter and his truly funny jokes. Somehow his company didn't feel as threatening and oppressing compared to other men. If he hadn't obviously been a traveller you would have entertained the idea of friendship. So you let him walk you home, enjoying your conversation. He was spirited and certainly not stupid. And he definitely gave as good as he got. You couldn't resist teasing him about his shirtless state.

He merely shruged his broad shoulders. Making those muscles roll and bunch. You could feel the blush creeping and thanked whatever deity was out there, that it was dark. Loud, harsh, deep voices caught you attention as you round the corner to the street you live in. Coming to an abrupt halt in front of a small group of drunk, rowdy men.

* * *

After yearlong experiences with tavern brawls, Ace recognises the possible danger within seconds, but still too late as one of the drunken men grabbed her arm forceful enough to make her shriek and pull her towards him. As Ace started to move he saw the others moving in between him and his intended goal. Pity for them they were drunk and probably even sober not a match for him. He made sure to knock them out fast, not impressed by fists and kicks thrown his way.

The move of bodies that prepared to fight was so familiar to him, that he never really thought about what he did until he stood eye to eye with the drunken fool, still groping and trying to kiss the struggling woman. As the man realised that he was about to be interrupted, he turned around, pushing the stunned girl behind him, hitting her head against the wall behind them.

Within seconds he is out cold and Ace is bend over the still body of the woman. He checks her breathing, gentle hands searching for any form of wound, but gratefully coming up empty. Finding not even a scratch. She groans and curses unladylike, making him grin from ear to ear, teasing her lightly about it while asking her about how she is feeling.

As she struggles to get up, he just picks her up, cradling her now fragile form to him, not saying a word and she directs him towards her house, curling up contently against his warm chest.

* * *

Your head hurts like a bitch and you are still trying to comprehend just what exactly happened a few moments ago. The headache convinces you to prolong sorting memories until the morrow and so you curl up against him as he carries you around like you weight nothing. But you know how heavy you are for you like to run, ride the bicycle or swim. You enjoy sports and a good workout. But as he holds you so carefully in a warm, protective embrace you become tired.

Fumbling with your keys, you open the door clumsily and he carries you upstairs to your room, making you comfortable under your covers. The last you remember is him bringing you something against the headache and settling beside you, so you cuddle back up to him, soaking in his warmth.

* * *

Ace lies down next to the woman, knowing of the dangers of hits to your head. He had suffered more than enough of those in his lifetime not to underestimate them. He knew it was likely that she might awake during the night and suffer from nausea or a major headache. Memory loss was also possible. And so he fell asleep as she curled up next to him. He wanted to make sure that this strange woman was well cared for.

At some point very early in the morning he was woken by a light stirring next to him. The sun hadn't even risen yet. The pale light of the moon outlined the woman's hands pressed against her forehead. She lightly groans, barely audible, in agony. Ace reacts without thinking. Hovering over her, he gently pries her hands away, massaging her skull, smoothing away lines of distress. A husky, sleep drunken voice apologizes for not thanking him earlier.

He looks at her. Really looks at her for the first time. He remembers how he saw her at the tavern. A tough woman, harsh, fit and cold. But now she lies under him, the back of one hand absentmindly rubbing over her eyes, gently breathing. So fragile and soft. He hadn't planned to kiss her and even as he presses his lips to hers, he chides himself for taking advantage of this woman.

But her lips open under his light caress and warm breaths mingle. He deepens the kiss, feeling hands entangle themselves in his hair. There are no words needed between them. Somehow, in the strange, fuzzy zone between sleep and something else, they understand each other. Her touches are at first pensive, but growing more comfortable with his body, gliding over muscles, scratching, massaging, caressing the way only a woman can. Ace can feel a warm wave washing over his body. Leaving heat tingling oer his skin.

He removes her clothing, trailing fingers, warmed by his fruit power, over her curves and muscles, mesmerized by their movements and reaction. Every little gasp Ace treasures as he heats up her cold exterior, welcoming the sensual woman underneath, coaxing her out of her hiding. He can feel the fire roaring inside his veins, every nerve sizzling, but he hasn't enjoyed her wriggling underneath him enough yet, hasn't seen lightly tanned skin gilded in pale moonlight enough yet, hasn't touched and seen and heard enough yet.

Her hands have removed his clothes already along the way and she now confidently caresses him in ways that make him insane. Blood pounds wildly in his ears and as she simply holds him in her hand, feeling his heat and hardness and weight, he groans loudly. It makes her purr in his ear and gently starts moving her hand up and down. Ace whimpers in frustration.

Gently she coaxes him into a sitting position. The gentleness in her touches as she pushes him this and that way endears her even more to him. A woman that can direct him without words or pressure. He crosses his legs, creating a comfortable seat for her as she settles down on his lap. The moonlight caresses her silhouette and he lets himself get caught in the moment, allowing her free reign in her touches. They again caress each other without hurry, savouring the lightest of touches, the most languid of kisses.

Then she straddles him. His arm wound around her small waist, holding her close as she sheathes him within her core. They moan in union. And still they can't be hurried along by neither hormones nor the rising sun. Each time the reach complementation together, they retire shortly, just holding each other before beginning the oldest of dances again.

Leisure movements and connected somewhere beyond the feeble concepts of worlds. One meeting of eyes tell more then words ever could each brushing of skin convey all needed to be known. A breathy 'Oh' demonstrating her appreciation as he shows her his fruit powers. A light chuckle as she lets water drops play over his six-pack, making them turn into steam.

Early morning found them entwined and in deep slumber. A connection made by chance and still more natural than imagined by either. Ace knew who he would come back to again and again until his last day.


	8. Thatch

_A/N:_

I was unhappy with this one for quite a while.

For starters I was confused by the many ways to spell his name. I hope I got the right one.

Also I'm not good with dialogues. Sometimes the situation was just too awkward and stilted to be pleasing.

But I think I found a satisfying solution. Your opinion, dear reader? Does it work?

_(Song of inspiration: Samsas Traum/ Weena Morloch - 'Werwiewas')_

**Triplet:** Commanders – Marco, Ace, Thatch (Part III)

* * *

Bar Nights

The crowd was boring tonight. You lounged comfortably on your barstool, signalling for another whiskey. As the glass slid down the bar towards you, your eyes slid lazily over the people assembled. For tonight you had claimed a barstool on the side, so that the room only got to see your profile.

A wooden creaking – must be the door – penetrated the clamouring of people drinking and talking. From your peripheral vision you observed two men entering the joint. One was young and black-haired. A pretty boy. Worth a notice.

But it was his companion that caught your eye.

The man was tall and broad across the chest. Blond hair was carefully styled and his darker facial hair well taken care of. His laughter and mirth carried over the ruckus of the crowd towards you.

During the evening you kept taps on him. When the waitress hurried away red-faced after taking his order you smiled to yourself. You loved yourself some men with a gifted tongue. What could he have said to the waitress?

Closely you watched his mannerism. The way his eyes lit up with humour or an end of his lips quirking up right before he said something witty. The movements of his arms and hands were wide and rakish. He was a man that talked with his whole body. Shoulders and upper body moved this and that way. The muscles in his neck stretching and retracting.

It was like some kind of dance. Every move was fluent and expressive. Not to forget the way that shirt stretched just so over his shoulders, arms and chest... You decided that you would take that man home tonight.

Content with your decision you reclined in your seat, signalling for the next drink. Patiently you bid your time. Waiting for the opening he would no doubt present. A little after an hour later you got your chance.

The moment he sidled up to the bar you slipped from your barstool, glass in hand. A woman going after a man in such a way was considered scandalising, but you wouldn't be deterred from going after what you wanted by the opinion of puny men.

Determined you moved to stand next to him, brushing up against him with your hip and arm, moving your empty glass across the counter. He smelled of salt, seaweed and something spicy and musky. Maybe his aftershave. How divine.

When your drink and his order touched the wooden counter, you grabbed both and turned towards him, your hands on height with your shoulders. With your 5'8 ft your were on eye-level with most men, while this one only got see your hairline. You tipped your head back slightly. A grin played around the corners of your lips. You had his attention.

Amused brown eyes watched you.

"I beg your pardon, Miss, but I do believe that this is my beer." He had a mellow voice. Not deep, but still very male.

"Yes, this is your beer." But you made no move to relinquish the beverage. Not breaking the eye contact you saw his eyes start twinkling with humour.

The game was on.

"Why, Miss, do you have my beer?" He leaned slightly down to you, but made no move to get his drink from you.

"Dear Sir, I have your drink to ensure your attention." You daintily arched an eyebrow at him.

"Well, you have my attention, pretty Miss." He smiled a wide smile at you.

"Yes, but for how long?" You moved the drinks a bit closer to your body, leaning slightly away from him.

"For how long would you like it?" You nearly laughed in delight. This man was a smart one and catching on fast. You decided that this was as good an invitation as they get, so you became a bit bolder.

"How about the rest of the night?" You grasped his beer bottle by the neck and offered it to him.

He took it from your hand and gestured to the empty seat next to him. This was half the victory. Now you only needed to reel him in. So you settled on the barstool, turning towards him, your knees innocently brushing his legs, your arm propped onto the counter.

"The night is a long period of time. What would a pretty lady like you need of me?" He took a swing from the bottle.

"Oh, I have a lot of needs, Sir. One of them you have already met." You smiled at him, taking a sip yourself.

"Is that so? Which need would that be, Miss?" His grin broadened in amusement.

"Well I already have your attention, don't I, Sir?" You really were enjoying it. He was obviously good game.

"I'm always most attentive, Miss." A suggestive arch of his eyebrow accompanied his statement. You hoped he would be.

"That is very commendable, Sir. Then would you mind indulging me for a bit?" Even though it was already a late evening or early night, you wanted to continue this banter as long as possible.

"How may I be of service?" He indicated a bow in the waist, his smug grin belittling his overly courteous tone.

"Tell me something interesting about yourself." Tapping your glass lightly against your lips, you watched him over the rim of it. Usually this was all the prompting a man needing.

"What would you like to know? And may I ask you some questions too?" He took another gulp of beer. Cocking your head to the side, you contemplated him.

"Fair enough. Three questions each and you have to answer. Though I'll warn you. I'm a woman of few secrets and those I have I will keep." You lazily let your eyes move over him, already contemplating your three questions.

"Very agreeable. Then please let me start, Miss, for I wish to know your name." He slid just the tiniest bit forward, leaning towards you, not breaking eye contact.

"That is not a question, so I'm not inclined to answer. My turn. What is your name, Sir?" You chuckled and grinned smugly as you leaned closer to him, taking another sip from your drink. He didn't seem offended by your brash answer.

"True. My name is Thatch, Miss. Hmm. Why are spending your evening in this bar?" He turned his body sidewards, crossing one leg over the other, steadily moving closer with a gentle smile.

"To be honest, Thatch, I'm not entirely sure why I came here tonight. I think I felt like getting a drink. But then you walked in an I thought I might get a bit more out of this evening than a couple of whiskeys. Here is my second question: What is the story behind your scar?"

You admitted that your move was pretty bold, but it was an honest answer. It could be a trick of the light, but he seemed pleased. And did his eyes just get a bit darker? You also definitely liked his name on your tongue. It was a naturally lazy drawl. Matching for this man.

When you asked your question, you reached towards him, gently moving two fingertips over the round scar next to his eyes. It was languid up and down movement, your fingers only a feather's brush against his cheek bone, when you pulled your hand away.

His head moved slightly into your touch, already talking before you could take the hand away.

"An old wound. I was still a lad in my late teens, when I got this one. Alas, the story behind it is quite mundane. A cannonball frazzled the railing close to where I was standing. A wooden shrapnel hit the side of my head. Any closer to my eye or my temple and that thing would have done some serious damage. So. Last question,eh? What now, Miss?" He smiled impish, draining his beer.

You crossed your arms in front of you, pretending to give a lot of thought to the answer. You actually already had a few ideas. For one you would have liked to find out his natural hair colour, seeing as his hair was blond and his beard black. And you would love to see his body and rove your eyes over the muscles.

"Yes, what now, hmm? For one I would like to hear a story you would term as exciting, when you call a wooden shrapnel to the head and a cannonball mundane. Also I would like to take you home to spend the night with you. To be frank: I would like to sleep with you, Thatch. Which brings me to my third question. I have a small apartment here in town. Would you like to join me there for a nightcap?"

Now the offer was out there. It was his final turn in this game. Take it or leave it. Waiting for his response, you drank the last remnants and slid the glass away from yourself.

He stood and offered you his arm while smiling down at you. Yes, score! You had him hook, line and sinker. Taking the offered arm, you led him outside and along the way home. The two of you continued your light banter the whole time. Sometime during the walk, he moved the arm you held on to from his side to around your back, pulling you closer.

As you settled against his warm side, you came back to the story he told you in the bar and started asking for either more information or more stories. He picked the stories, keeping all informations as vague as possible.

When you arrived at your flat, you left your shoes inside next to the door, stepping into the open space of your living room, waiting for your conquest to get out of his shoes and lock the door behind himself.

You watched as he slowly, almost warily, made his way towards you. When he was within arms reach, you unbuttoned your blue coat. Letting it glide to the floor. Revealing a knee-length, blue A-line-skirt and a simple white t-shirt.

You took the last step towards him, hands gently cradling his cheeks, as you pulled his lips down for a kiss. The first kiss was always the most telling. It was something nothing you could prepare for, showing more of your personality than anything ever could. His was warm, sensual and slow-paced. In contrast to many other men, he wasn't confused by you taking the lead, but matched his moves to yours, adapting to you.

When your hands ran down his neck, he got rid of his shirt, without you having to say anything. You took a step back, roving your eyes over his form. Another few scars marred his body. White, stiff tissue a contrast to cut, moving muscle under tanned skin. Slowly you walked around him, hands and eyes enjoying the broad chest, strong arms and dipping lines of the flat stomach.

Your nails slightly scraped over the dusting of hair across his pectorals. Tips caressing oval, flat nipples, feeling them hardening under your ministration. You toyed with the hair that led south to his navel and further down to his trousers. You pressed your hand flat against his abdomen, exchanging body heat, your thumb playing over the hard, solid leather of the belt.

A heated path your fingers left from his abdomen over his hipbones to his back. You moved both hands up over his back. Muscles fluttering under your touch. One hand moved up over his spine towards the short, soft hair in his neck. It travelled around his neck, resting across his chest, pulling him back against you. Your lips caressed the skin between his shoulder blades. A hot tongue licking at salty, heated skin. Thatch even tasted like the sea.

Retracing the pace back down his back, moving back in front of him, you pulled him close by his hips. Instantly he enveloped you in his arms, pulling you even closer, meeting you for a lustful, scorching kiss.

A bare foot moved over his and along his leg, the course hair tickling pleasingly. He just pulled you closer, moving his lips over your neck, making you gasp. His lips never lost contact to your skin, an agile tongue working over your skin, sending a warm, fluttery feeling straight to your core.

A calloused hand tipped your head back further, his thumb brushing over your parted lips. You nibbed at it with your teeth. He grinned a devilishly wicked grin. Showing a bit of the wild and dangerous sailor he was. With competent and authoritative movements you got rid of his belt and trousers. Your fingers moved across the black briefs for a moment before deciding that they had to go as well.

Now he stood before you in all his naked glory, all-over hard and sinful. And, yepp, he was a natural blond. You grinned at him, divesting yourself teasingly slow of your own clothes.

First went the white shirt. You tugged it free from under your shirt, gathering the fabric in your hands, before gliding it upwards an inch a time. After you had pulled it over your head, you carelessly threw it away. The skirt was easy. Once you had eased the zipper in the back down, it simply crumbled to a pool of fabric at your feet.

This left you in a simple, innocent, cream-coloured set. You stepped back towards him, turning your back to him and holding your hair up, indicating to him that he was to remove your necklace. He did so, letting it fall into the wrinkled skirt.

Thatch used the opportunity to move hands and lips over body, pretty much like you had done earlier. Leaning slightly backwards, encircling his neck with your arms, you ground your butt against his hips. That got you a strangled groan.

You smiled as he turned you around and grabbed you under your backside, lifting you, prompting you to tug your legs around his middle. Slightly swaying, he walked the two of you over to the big, soft carpet that lay in front of your couch.

Supporting your back, he went down on his knees, depositioning you on the rug. Thatch made short work of your underwear, than sat back between your legs to get a good look at you. You body was humming with the beginnings of lust. Stroking the flames, you trailed your hands over your body, shamelessly showing your conquest how and where you wanted – needed – to be touched.

Soon his hands and lips joined your hands, until you could feel the knot in your lower body tying up even more. By now you were unable to distinguish between your and his hands. He was sucking at your neck, one hand caressing the underside of your breasts, when you laid your hands on his broad shoulders and started to push him down your body.

Thatch didn't resist your physical directions, but soon moved eagerly to the juncture of your legs. Thumbs caressed your hipbones, your legs spread sideways over his muscular arms. You moaned in utter delight as he started to work on your slit. When his teeth accidentally scrapped over your clit you hissed in bliss. As he heard the sound he repeated the movement, earning himself a long moan.

"Thatch!" Oh yes, he was most attentive. That man didn't brag. As flames engulfed your skin, you purred and moaned and let your conquest know just how pleased you were with his touches. Damn, you really loved yourself some men with a gifted tongue.

As the first shudders erupted in your core, you pushed him away and backwards, so you could straddle his hips. Your lips latched on his, tasting yourself on them, his hands seeking your breasts toying with them. As your hands wandered over his body, his lips moved over your shoulders. When you grabbed his thick, hard cock, thumbing over the head, letting a nail dip lightly into the slit, he growled against your chin, bucking up into your hand.

Lifting yourself up a bit you told him to spread his legs wider and put his hands behind his back. As Thatch followed your orders, you sank down on him, before leaning back, so your hips were between his thighs, your thighs embracing his narrow hips. Bracing your arms behind your back, you started rolling your hips gently forwards and back.

Soon he caught on and when he met you in your forward movements, you could feel his cock sliding over a bundle of nerves just behind your mons. Your body reacted by clamping down on him. You both groaned in union. When suddenly his thumb found your clit, rubbing it in rhythm with your movements, you threw your head back.

"Fuck!" Thatch agreed with a deep moan and low groaning. The fire inside yourself now rushed through your veins, singeing your flesh, your skin prickling and the air whooshing from your lungs. You picked up the tempo, Thatch meeting every roll of your hips. You could feel the first tightening of your muscles and so did he. His stimulation of your clit got stronger sending you over the edge, your back arched. He followed swift with a chocked moan.

Gently you entangled yourself from him and laid down next to him. Curling up to him. Both of you let your hands run gently over the others form. After a short pause you got up, taking his hand and lead him back to your bedroom for another round.


	9. Doflamingo

Weeeeh, Doflamingo for you. Marco coming up sometime next week(nearly finished).

This is for **Jflower**. (I did this my way, since no Mary-Sues are allowed around me.)

Beware: line means a change in POV! (wanted something new for this project :D )

**Triplet:** Slaves – Doflamnigo, Smoker, Hina (Part I)

* * *

Dish it, baby!

Doflamingo flopped down into his expensive lounge in pure boredom. Maybe he should play with his subordinates and kill one or the other. His life was way too peaceful for his liking. His ears perked up when he heard feet running down the corridor into his direction.

Just a few moments later the rumbling came to an abrupt stop in front of his door. Nervous knocking filled the room. Not bothering to change his posture, he called the person to enter. A middle-aged man stepped hesitantly his study.

Nervously shuffling his feet, eyes downcast, he started to speak. "Master Doflamingo, a slave-trader ship of your company has been located nearby. Would you like to meet up with it or should we continue on our route?"

Mulling over the different options for a second, the Shichibukai jumped up, startling the other pirate, making him flinch back. "Go, tell them to change route. We will meet up with the slave-trader. And get me a Den Den Mushi with a connection! Fast!"

"Yes, Sir!", his subordinate said, practically running from the room. Doflamingo cackled in amusement. Maybe he would get some new toy. The day certainly turned to the better.

* * *

You were bored out of your wits. But what was there to do? You were locked in a big cage, shackles binding your hands and feet. A huge headache was forming at the back of you head. Why were these people so whiny? Yeah, they would probably be sold as slaves. The chance of getting out of that fate was, oh let's say, close to none.

So why couldn't they just shut up? Their bitching and crying made you want to kill them with your own hands. Besides the collar around your neck made your skin itch. But otherwise nothing concerned you. Even if somebody bought you, you would get out of it very soon. This was not the first time you got into this sort of predicament. Blame it onto your addiction to gambling. If you only knew when to stop...

But in the end, you always escaped. You were too clever for them. Though you never said good bye without some compensation in form of bellies and gold. That was how you did it. You just went along, doing things your way and enjoying your life to the maximum. No sense in wasting your life onto morals and illusions.

And since there was nothing to be done currently, you started to doze off, your back pressed against the warm steel bars.

Loud scrabbling above you made you lazily crack open an eye. The turbulence came to a sudden stop and only one pair of feet could be heard walking. Waiting for the next move, you absently wiped the sweat off your brow. When did it become so hot and humid down here? People could be heard moving closer. Steel keys were clicking against each other. Everybody became quiet, desperately pressing into the very back of the cage. Like it could help them. You didn't move one muscle, peering over to the door out of the corner of your eye, not bothering to keep your yawn in.

* * *

Silently Doflamingo congratulated himself on this choice. He was amused by the scared looks on the crew's faces. To stir their anxiety, he pretended to look for mistakes or a peace of dirt, while on the way to the slave cages.

The wooden room was small and the air smelled of sweat. He could see the people trying to hide in shadows in the very backs of their cages. Their bodies pressed so close, they were just one giant mass of flesh.

He was so absorbed in their fear, that the one girl that sat relaxed in the very middle of such a cage, cleaning her nails in boredom, startled him. He waltzed over to said cage and drawled "And what's with you? Feeling lucky?"

A pair of brown eyes moved slowly to face him. She shrugged and stated as a matter of fact "Guess so. What do you care? You're a guy and wearing a pink, huge jacket. Something you have to make up for?"

* * *

You saw a vein plopping out on the guy's forehead. He just chuckled darkly and pointed without another word at you. The captain hurried over, the keys clicking merrily. You let him loosen the metal chains, pulling you out of the giant cage.

You looked at the blond man next to you, letting the others flit around you, readjusting your cuffs, collar and chains. That man certainly smirked way to much. Seeing the others trying to keep their distance you quirked an eyebrow at him. "You da boss?" The ship's captain gave him the chain to your collar like he would present her to a god. On your way out, you observed how everybody scrambled away from him. Yep, definitely the boss.

While he was walking, or more like swaying, you calculated your situation. You knew who he was. Like you knew every person on the oceans that could prove trouble and was thus avoided by you. Well up until now. There was a first a time for everything though. You shrugged. Let's see where this was heading. And until then you would get a mighty good laugh out of his clothes. Maybe he had some drink on his ship to make his clothes fashionable. You saw no other explanation for him going out like he did. Orange and pink, my ass. You snickered under your breath. He heard you though. Looking over his shoulder he smirks at you. "Enjoying yourself?" You grinned back and answered in a mocking tone "That is up to you. Master." His smirk grew sinister "That it is, girlie."

Those words were followed by a sharp tuck to the chain, making you nearly fall. Not one to leave such a bait be, you 'accidentally' tripped, making your body hit his back full force. One moment he was close to losing his balance, but unfortunately it didn't even make him pause. Not only that your nice try to pay him back for the tucking hadn't worked, but your falling into his back got you a taste of his smell. For long seconds your brains went blank. You always loved when a man smelled good, but this one smelled like a five-course-gourmet-menu to you. It was a spicy smell. Something heady. Which turned you into complete mush.

Maybe, just maybe, you might expend your stay with him for a little.

* * *

When they pulled her out of the cage he realised just HOW short she was. Sitting she had looked petite, but as she was standing she proved to be not even half as tall as he had thought she would be. Oh bugger, he could always turn her into a footrest then. Although whether he liked it or not, he had to admit it. She had spunk. And amazing guts. He had seen it in her eyes. She knew who he was. And still such an attitude. He had women like her before. They were easy to goad and an immensely fun to torment.

That wannabe-tackle of hers amused him to no end. So much fire. How he would enjoy to see her anger boil in her blood with her unable to do a damn thing. She didn't seem to be the type that reacted to words. So he would have to do some actions to get her twist in pure anger . But what would be best to trigger her?

They were walking down the corridors of the massive ship. The girl completely unimpressed. Maybe he would have to get more personal, when such things didn't faze her. Oh and he had just THE idea. Entering his rooms he pushed her into a sofa, closely eyeing his prey.

She was oh so small and delicate of build, betraying her fierce spirit. Her skin was the darkest brown he had ever seen, giving her narrow, light brown eyes the colour of a fine whiskey. Many long and thick braids hanging down to her hips. Her shirt was ripped off one shoulder and her jeans torn at many places. Her sandals had seen better times, too.

He casually moved over to a table, taking the colourful set of cards from its top.

"Ever heard of Poker?"

* * *

You nearly snorted when he looked you over. The way he was hovering over you, giving you the eye, just looked so utterly ridiculous from your point of view. Then why did you feel so flattered?

He might just as well think you to be as sexy as a fresh puke. Ah, never mind.

Your eyes didn't leave him one moment, when he moved around the room, finally holding a up a pack of cards.

"Ever heard of Poker?" His voice was something between an maniac and a purr. Was that how a deal with the devil sounded?

You shrugged. "Well, of course. In all of its variety. Not like it's difficult a game anyway."

He cackled, betraying the mad man inside him. "Thought so. Wanna have a once-in-a-life-chance? Listen, girly. You gonna play with your life. You lose, you're dead. You win, you get the keys to those." A subtle motion to your shackles. "So what do you say?"

What a game. Only a fool would not take such a chance. You stood up, moving close to him. Oh so close. His wonderful smell penetrated your nose, turning your eyes a darker shade of brown. You folded your arms in front of you. Looking him straight in the eye, you uttered just one sentence.

"Dish it, baby."

* * *

He had expected that much from her. How entertaining she was. Oh how he would enjoy to see her faith leave her eyes as she say her doom coming. There was no way she would win. And she would see that as well. Soon.

He watched as the tiny woman sat down opposite from him, the shackles and chains ringing like small bells. He wondered about her ability to stay so composed when she was playing a game of Poker with HIM and her life at stake. He loved mad women. They were so much more fun.

He pushed a few chips to her end of the table and began shuffling the cards. They went through the routine some rounds until he became aware the amount of chips on her side was growing. She was better than he had anticipated. Time to stop play fair, he decided. Using his fruit powers he made her turn her cards so he could see them. But not only once. He did it every round. And he enjoyed how she started to be more and more pissed off with him. As she had only two more chips lying on her side of the table he announced the final round. Not to mention that the little hell cat in front of him became even more angry by the second. She was cursing and cussing. Spitting fire anyway. Doflamingo admired just how pretty she was when she was all riled up like now.

Although the flying table and cards did stun him there.

* * *

You were fairly confidant about the outcome of this game. He may be good, but you were better. After all you had spent more than half your life gambling. You smiled at the irony of Poker getting you into this situation and Poker getting you out of it. From the very start you had counted on him cheating. But not like this.

That man was such an ass. Successfully he pushed you to your limit. You saw read, blood boiling and heart hammering in your ears. Those damn Devil Fruit powers! As he collected his latest win his control waned, giving your impulses the chance the had waited for. The only sound that reached your brain was your roar as you jumped up, throwing table and cards out of your way, charging at him.

You jumped on him. The impact knocked his chair over, you two tumbled onto the floor. Pulling at his blond hair, the glasses knocked off, you screeched a him: "You fucking idiot. You are such an ass."

Smashing your lips onto his though had not been your plan. At least, not quite.

* * *

Even as she was nearly pulling out all his hair, screeching at him about being an ass, he could only admire her poise. The heat of her anger and the force of her obvious madness struck a cord in him. When her lips smashed onto his, teeth gracing tender flesh, he knew he had found just what he had been looking for quite a while. A woman that could take him on.

He grabbed a handful of her braids, pulling her head back, leaving her neck exposed. Sucking on the warm, dark skin he could hear her hiss in anger and pleasure. She reacted by twisting out of his grip. At least she tried. He pulled her lips back to his, ripping her shirt off her, shoving her bra up, letting her breast bounce, all the while he felt her small hands clawing his jacket and open shirt away.

Using his weight he threw her to the floor, pinning her down with his body.

* * *

Your view became rather hazy. The cold stone floor against your naked back made you shiver, producing delicious friction as you wriggled against his big warm body above you. His lips moved to the skin under the collar, a hand still twisted in your braids, laving at the exposed skin. The smouldering ardency of his breath sent your heart into a frenzy. Desperate for some control you closed your eyes, gasping. Playful he bit into the side of your breast, making your back arch even the slightest.

He took the opportunity to slide his hands to your back, giving your ass a good squeeze. You unintentionally moaned. Oh, that felt good. Dimly you became aware of his mouth moving to your breasts. As the hot cavern closed around an nipple you pushed it closer to the wicked tongue that began to massage the soft skin.

* * *

Doflamingo groaned in approval. This woman made him crazy being all passionate and alluring. Her skin was so soft. Some faded scars feeling smooth like water. And the sounds she made. He wanted to hear them all. He wanted her to gasp in enjoyment, groan in passion, moan in ecstasy. His, and only his, name on her lips. He wanted her. Bad.

He feasted on her body. Thrilled by the way she wriggled and bucked against his bigger frame. She felt so soft and comfortable under him. The way her legs had wound around his, trapping him against her body.

He let his hands wander from her back into the back of her trousers and panties. Ripping them of her slender legs in one smooth move. Determined he collected all the chains to her shackles in one hand, the other pressing her to his body, capturing her lips to divert her from his next move.

Rolling into a standing position, he pushed her subtle body against the wall, attaching the chains to a candleholder.

* * *

The world around you moved in blurry. You couldn't exactly say how you ended up against a wall, your arms pulled up above you. Not like he left you with much time to contemplate. You groaned in satisfaction as his whole body pressed against you. You always had wondered about how a six pack and chiselled pecs would feel. It was better than you had imagined as the hard muscles pressed against you, feeling your legs wound around his narrow hips. The feel of his hard-on against your exposed private place made you throw your head back in approval.

His big hands were massaging your thighs and ass, making you impatient. Your chest was heaving, sweat starting to build on your forehead. The way he rubbed and ground against you, his pants rubbing against your clit, making you moan unchecked. His hands left your legs to start working on his trousers.

Caught in your blind passion for this ass of a man, you instinctly wrapped your legs around his middle, waiting for him. With a little rustling his pants slid to his ankles. You could feel his hot flesh press against you. He moaned, feeling your heat, sliding up and down between your feminine folds. You groaned "Doflamingo", making him moan once more before sliding into you. You gasped, feeling him stretch you uncomfortably. Gods, it was so divine. And when he started to move. Sliding his whole body against yours, claiming your lips in a desperate kiss. You moved with him, prompting him to bring you even more pleasure.

Ecstasy send you flying, your body pressed tightly to his. Tiredly he tugged the chains from the candle holder, sliding you two down to the floor. You rested your head on his shoulder as he pulled his damn pink coat over you two.

* * *

The next morning you woke rather groggy to a cold floor underneath you and a pink, fluffy jacket above you. The keys to those shackles lay within your reach near a shoe. His tanned arm was still wound around your middle. So you had to stretch your arm a bit to reach the silver keys. Just as your left fingertips reached them a deep voice behind you huffed:

"You weren't planning on leaving early, were you?


	10. Rob Lucci

_A/N:_ Finally the tests are over and I'm free to upload. Sometimes it's more work than it's worth. Really. Well, this is a 'Thank you' for **Lilith Kisaragi** and her never-ending enthusiasm. Surprises me, why they say that flattery gets you nowhere. Anyway girl, enjoy your own little toy time. ;-)

**Triplet:** The Clueless - Lucci, Law, Kidd (Part I)

* * *

Toy time

To him it was a bad pun. He wasn't a damn cat. He was a killer! What the hell would he need a toy for? But none the less they had thrust this girl into his arms, unimpressed by his snarls and growls. Spandam had moved his hands in front of his face, complaining about Lucci having too much free time and thus getting on his nerves.

And now he had this strange slip of a girl sitting in front of him, the cutlery in her hands clicking in a steady rhythm. Now and then round, green eyes darted to his face or to random places around the room. He hadn't said a word so far to her, not really ignoring her but not giving her attention either. He rather mulled over her.

She seemed to be a quiet girl. So it was even more surprising to see how she had gone alarmingly red, probably even redder than her hair, when he had thrown shirt and coat away, going straight to the shower. Out of the corner of his eye he had seen her settling herself in his favourite armchair. Trying to be as invisible as possible for a human, while her feet played absent-mindly with one of the fur rugs, which were placed all over his room.

He took his time all the while listening if her nerves would screw up and send her running. Would be better for her. Yet she still sat in that armchair, legs curled up to her chest, long, curly red strands brushing against her trousers. He was afraid her eyes would plop out of her head, when she saw him entering the room in long, loose-fitting, black trousers and his black, open shirt.

Experience had shown him, that he seemed to be attractive to both genders. But so far he hadn't given a damn. It was helpful, when the urge struck him, but other than that? Sometimes it was downright annoying how much attention his looks caused. So what was he supposed to do with her?

Moving in closer, he settled his hands on the armrests. He eyed her carefully. Rather short in height, barely reaching the middle of his chest, green eyes and long, curly, red hair she was … something else, in lack of a better word. Certainly not the type of woman he was used to. An irritating lock of his long, black hair came to rest against the pale skin of her cheek, the contrast startling in its sudden appeal to him.

He stared down into her eyes, which met his without hesitation or fear. At least he could detect none. It was like she tried to analyse him the same way he did her. If she did, which he guessed, than she had amazing guts. Using his highly skilled cat senses, he came up blank. Her breathing was even and deep, her heart beating in an unchanging rhythm.

He leaned down, giving her his best scary grin, than a furious glare, trying to intimidate her. It did not a damn thing to her. He was at a loss. Why wasn't she reacting? Maybe he would need another approach all together? It seemed that his exposed body got her flustered. He would have to try that method.

He would get a reaction out of her, even if it was the last thing he did.

He would not only get a reaction out of her, but would have her quivering before him, like a mouse before the cat, that he was. _His_ prey.

The dark-haired man leaned closer and closer, moving one knee between her feet, forcing her legs slightly apart. He still moved closer until there wasn't more than thin air between them, his lips devilish close to her mouth. Lucci could feel her inhales and exhales swirling against his lips. He never broke eye contact. Leaning down into her neck, sniffing at her hair, his hot breath raising goose bumps on the light skin.

He smirked self-satisfied. So she could react. His lips traced slowly over her neck towards her ear. Stopping on the way when he felt her blood drumming against his lips through her heated skin. For long moments he left his lips there, enjoying the clear smell of her perfume, like fresh snow, feeling how her heartbeat slowed down to a normal pulse before slightly licking and sucking at the spot. What an exhilarating and captivating feeling. Once he felt the tempo increase again, he continued on his journey.

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, breathing against her earlobe. The tip of his tongue moved around the ear shell, before plunging in, earning himself a surprised gasp for the heat. What a delightful little sound.

Though, regretfully it knocked on the door, stopping him in tracks. He was close to snapping the poor person in two, who dared to bother while he was enjoying his newest game. Fortunately for the poor soul there was cart between it and Lucci, laden with delicious smelling treats and a bottle of Lucci's favourite wine.

Sensing the CP9 agent's mood the person turned and fled, leaving Lucci with the silver cart. Rolling the vehicle into his room and towards a large wooden table near a balcony, he saw her eyeing him warily. He set out the different dishes and poured a glass of wine. He enjoyed the tangy smell and bright red colour.

Walking back over to his 'toy' he held out his hand, watching her reactions from his high vantage point. He thought it interesting how her brow furrowed, a nostril lightly twitching as she looked at his hand. Tentatively she moved her hand out. Coming to halt shortly over his palm.

As she finally put her hand in his, the touch so soft and light, he kept his big, tanned hand open for a few moments, taking his time to analyse the strange sensations and thought upon seeing the petite, slender, pale hand in his, making his own hands seem more like bestial paws. Slowly enclosing the fingers he pulled her into a standing position, before navigating her over to the dinner laid out in the setting sun.

The last rays of sun made her red hair shine like blood and her pale skin to be molten gold. Lucci admitted to himself that he kind of liked it. Determined to get this girl out of her shell, he got through everything he heard women liked in his head, before pulling her chair out from her, waiting until she gingerly settled herself, before pushing her close to the table again.

She only watched him more warily like he could pounce her any second. And he really felt like it. But instead he sat down opposite from her, shoving a random plate into her direction. As he lifted his own top from the plate he viewed an exotic dish made of rice, vegetables, meat and dark, rich, reddish gravy. He licked his lips in anticipation.

And thus they sat opposite each other, Lucci trying to stare the girl down and the redhead desperate to look anywhere but him. He tried catching her eyes every chance he got. To see how worked up she became when he licked his lips or the ways she twitched when he looked at her over the rim of his wine glass became more and more enjoyable to him by the second.

An evil thought struck him. She could stay out of his reach by sitting as far away as possible. And she could continue looking away. But she couldn't block out his voice.

"So, my dear. What is your name?" he purred lazily in a dark timbre, his chin resting on a palm.

The poor girl nearly chocked on a fork of spaghetti. Her head whirled around, eyes opened wide, soaking in the image of him sitting basically half naked in front of her, tanned skin glowing exotically, strong, tight muscles rippling with the smallest of moves, long dark hair loose, golden eyes gleaming.

The way her knuckles turned white around the cutlery for a second told him, that she was going trough all possible scenarios. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself against him.

All that came out was a low 'That is beside the point, isn't it?'

Lucci chuckled. The dark, husky sound send a small shiver over her skin. That he noticed with great contentedness. Twirling the glass between his fingers, watching the liquid splash around, he answered:

'It does.'

Her eyes met his, blazing with…was that anger? 'Why?' she asked harshly.

Lucci was surprised by her reaction. And equally amused. Not so quiet now, huh? Her being a little spitfire had been a possibility, but an unlikely one, though he didn't really complain about it.

He just extended his wine glass towards her, asking in the same dark, charming timbre, that once got under her skin: 'Would you care for a bit of wine?'

Her eyes betrayed her suspicion about him. Lucci wondered if the suspicion was really shown against her wishes or if it was her way of telling him her opinion. She grasped the glassy handle, albeit with more force than necessary. The redhead turned the glass so she would not touch the space where he drank from the glass. But Lucci had other things in mind, so he turned it, that her lips would exactly touch the glass where he had.

For that she glared at him. So she was annoyed with him? Interesting. Especially since she didn't utter one word of protest. As she had drained the last drop, he leaned forward.

"Well, to get back to the matter at hand. Your name. It does matter."

Again her brow furrowed, but she matched him gaze for gaze. At last she said in an even voice: "If it would matter, if anything would matter, you would have set me free."

Silently Lucci laughed. From underneath lowered eyelashes, he watched her a moment in silence. Taking in her, due to the wine, slightly flushed skin, her angry, glittery, green eyes and that long, seductively curly hair the colour of blood.

"You were free to go. I wouldn't have stopped you." A little smile grazing his lips.

Rumour has it that females are creatures made of emotions. And this one seemed to be as well. Obviously taken by surprise, her face showed more emotion than Lucci knew by name and faster than he could really comprehend. In the end she settled on something, that he uncertain named as 'stunned'.

"Well…uh…uhm…Than thank you for the delicious meal. I guess. This is probably a good moment to take my leave then."

With those words she stood up and made her way towards the door. Until she had nearly crossed the room he took delight in her long hair swaying gently from side to side, her body moving in a primal, female way, that heated his blood and made him purr in appreciation.

"You have to listen more closely. I said you 'were'. No longer you are."

Her body went rigid. Not one muscle moved. Like frozen. He even couldn't detect breathing. Slowly Lucci sauntered up to her. _His_ toy. Lazily his eyes trailed from her thighs up her hips, to her shoulders. Standing behind her, towering over her, he pressed himself against her back, before his hands followed the way his eyes had taken.

He started with her thighs. Slowly stroking the covered skin in random directions. His hands wandering to the front, thumbs moving into the pockets of her trousers, hands holding her hips in a tight grip, pressing her rear against his thighs. She stood still. Not in fear, but waiting for his next move. He could hear the wheels turning in her head. And they were working at full speed.

So one hand moved up to her stomach, settling its heavy warmth there, while the other moved down between her legs, giving her mound a firm, possessive squeeze trough the clothes.

A barely audible hitch he got as payment. His hands moved back to her sides, idly stroking her skin up to her waist, his big, broad hands enclosing her small waistline. But after some time his hands grew restless again and wandered further upwards until they found her breasts.

He slowly palmed them, coming to the conclusion that her breasts were barely big enough to fill his hands. Lucci was used to different sizes, but it would do and he just didn't really care at the moment. So his hands crossed in front of her to hold onto her shoulders. He pressed her warm body even more to him ad leaned down to her ear, until her small frame was nearly swallowed by his.

"You are far too interesting to let go now. That's what you get from being defiant with me." He chuckled darkly, placing hot, open-mouthed kiss down her neck. Again enjoying how her pulse seemed to skyrocket.

Slowly he turned her around. He had been right. She barely reached the middle of his chest. Resting one hand on her lower back, keeping the damn girl close to him, the other gripped her chin, pulling her face up to his.

Her flush had deepened, her eyes nearly closed, he brushed leisurely brushed his lips against hers. From the left to the right and back, until they opened on their own account, like a flower in the sun. He teased her by playfully flicking his hot, wet tongue against her lips before pleasurably slowly it into her hot cavern.

He took his time to savour her taste of wine, gravy and femininity. Coaxing her tongue to play and mingle with his. As he slightly sucked at the appendage he got a gasp from her hand her hands were balling his open shirt in her hands.

Using his height as an advantage he pulled her down onto the fur beneath them, hovering over the girl on all fours, fingers playing with some red strands. She looked up at him with an eerie silence of expectation, that merely was interrupted by heavy, irregular breaths.

He sat up, randomly letting his hands trail over her body, massaging her, stroking there, sometimes squeezing. When her breathing became faster, his hands crept under her shirt, pushing it and her bra over her head without much ado.

Gotten rid of the offending garments, he got back to letting his hands wander. Like touching a water surface, his fingertips and nails barely touched her, just to suddenly push the whole, heated hand down or to twist a nipple forcefully.

He took his time playing with his new toy. The contrast of his dark skin and her pale one amazed him to no end. But the slight blush that covered her body was not good enough a reaction to him. So he leaned down to kiss and lick at her skin. First her neck, for he knew it would bring him a satisfying reaction.

And just as expected he heard her gasp as he lightly bit down on her throat. Lucci's lips wandered down to her breast languidly. Switching between feather-light touches and ones of terrifying passion. Soon he found out, that she enjoyed her nipples to be sucked and the side of her breasts to be nibbled at. Both which gained him throaty moans.

The incoherent words that left her mouth and the way she twisted beneath him expressed the raging fire of arousal inside her, making her head swim in all those different emotions. Lucci continued downwards with his lips. Taking a detour at her waist. Her trousers and panties were taken off swiftly, the sound of tearing fabric only dimly penetrating his mind.

He pulled her legs apart, settling between them on his stomach. He pulled one of her thighs to his head, using it as rest, while his arm snaked around it, the hand getting a good grip of one buttock, as he enjoyed the display of his dark hair against her pale, flushed skin. Stroking the other leg, he gave her time to collect herself. As she had collected herself enough to look down at him, he caught her eyes, daring his toy to look away.

Slowly he let one finger trail thought the short stubble of red hair, down over folds. He stroked them lazily like he would do a cat, slowly getting deeper and deeper between them. He heard her breath fasten, so he slipped a finger into her core in one swift move.

He head rolled back, her hips moving forward to engulf him further. His thump caressed her clit as a second finger joined the first one.

Lucci liked his new toy. He brought her short to the cliff, before pulling back, leaving her restless. Up close, her smell was able to ensnare alle his senses. He had no idea how long they had lain there like this, with her trembling under his ministration, his head resting on her tight. She moaned, she gasped, she pleaded, she cursed, she pulled at his hair, she tried to kick him, she bucked and clawed at his shoulders in frustration.

Her mind lost in the pleasure she could only plead, not able to tell him what she pled for, her body moving about wildly, the long red hair mussed. Slowly and deliberately he propped himself up, moving upwards her body, rubbing their skin together, causing maddening friction.

Her hands shot to his hair, seeking a grip. He let his toy pull his head down, kissing her. Lucci hovered over her a moment, their lips their only connection, before he plunged himself into her heat. A hoarse moan, escaped into his mouth.

He left her lips, instead enjoying the heat of their joining. First he sat a slow pace, uncaring when she demanded for a faster one. He would enjoy his new toy to the fullest. Her bucking body and desperate moans and groan, made him wild. Before he was plunging into her, one thump rubbing her clit. A scream of painful pleasure left her lips as she reached her climax, pulling him along. A moment later he sat up.

Now, her pale, womanly body lay quivering before him and he decided that he would keep his toy, feeling content, maybe even happy. Carefully he pulled her petite frame up into his arms, seeking his bed and a little rest for his toy.


	11. Eustass Kidd

_N/A:_ Well, it's about two in the morning, and while I'm absolutely relaxed, sleep simply doesn't want to come to me.

I blame this one on boredom and will feign innocence come morning.

**Triplet:** The Clueless - Lucci, Law, Kidd (Part III) (part I)

* * *

Bad

You had to admit, this didn't quite turn out as planned. Looking at your watch, you saw that it was already late in the day. Usually you would now stand in the kitchen of your little flat, preparing dinner for yourself and your boyfriend.

Usually.

Today's dinner was not only for celebration, but also a peace offering. The two of you had been arguing quite often lately.

You had been determined to make this day very, _very_ special. After all today was your boyfriend's birthday.

Because then you got yourself kidnapped. 'A special day indeed.', you growled mentally. You moved the pillow under your head, while continueing to glare at your captor.

The same as the last few hours.

It wasn't that you had anything else to do nor that it had much of an effect. He poured over some maps and ignored you. He was quite good at the last one. That man hadn't so much as looked at or talked to you since he flung your body over his shoulder and made his way back to his ship.

But he did make sure that the door was locked. _'_How nice of him._'_, you thought ironically. As angry as you were, you still didn't dare to cross him. You knew that you would never stand a chance against him. So you continued to simply glare at him from your place on his bed.

But there is just so much glaring one person can do until they get a headache from the effort. That is how things worked. Instead you settled to watching him. As you contemplated his profil, you suddendly became aware that you had switched from 'just watching him' to 'critically analysing him with a woman's eye'.

In a strange way the pirate was easy on th eyes. The way he absent-mindedly tapped his pen against his lips, reminded you of your boyfired. You missed that man terribly, even if you were still upset by some things he had said and done in the last few days. But then again, you hadn't been very nice either. Even if it was rare, sometimes your temper got the better of you and you exploded. With some spectecual collateral damage.

While you still were at odds with your boyfriend, when comparing the two men Kidd occupied the whole 'bad' side. He was dangerous, mercurial, unpredictable and an overall bad person. Okay, so you liked his fiery red hair and those exotic ambers eyes and the image of you protectively sheltered under his arm, but he was still the bad one.

This was going nowhere. So you opted for a brief pause in the benefit of trying to figure out your abduction's reason. Slowly you retraced your steps from getting up to getting on this ship.

It wasn't anything special that happened. Really. You were on the market in the early morning to get fresh fruits and vegetables. You had just paid for the strawberries, which your abductor currently enjoyed.

Yeah, so you had paid them and looked up. Straight into his eyes as he turned around. You had heard the rumours of him being a bit touchy when it came to people looking at him and stuff. Hell, everyone did! Though in your opinion he seriously overdid it. It wasn't like you had gaped at him or anything, so it couldn't be that.

Your eyes had met for a short moment, at the moment dismissing his eyes lightening up upon seeing you, before you went away.

Not anything that happened would justify being kidnapped, wouldn't it? He must be more touchy on the matter than the whole world guessed.

Not that you knew or could figure out a reason why he should be. You had seen stranger people. Though it wasn't like he looked anywhere near ordinary.

While you didn't necessarily agree with his way of matching clothes, or the lack of them, you did like his fuzzy coat. Preferably without the spikes on the shoulders though. It can be quite painful when you are carried around on his shoulder and those damn spikes poke at you. You nearly jolted upwards as you recognized the direction your thoughts were going.

Which brought you back to the question: why the hell were you on his ship, staring holes into him? Though you guessed, you could call yourself lucky to still be alive. There really wasn't much you could do at the moment. But before you could settle back into glaring-mode, the pirate started to move. Which put you immediately on edge.

Leisurely he gathered all the maps together, put them back into their drawers, shrugged out of his coat and left the room. Closing the door behind him. Like he had totally forgotten you!

Damn him, damn Eustass Kidd! He was still ignoring you. Though you stopped yourself mid-tirade. When faced with a man like Kidd the rules of survival were easy.

Rule number 1: Always know where the predator is and what he is doing. If he gets drop on you, you can consider yourself dead. So the current situation was less than desireable. He could be standing just outside the door, waiting for a wrong move from you.

Then something inside your head clicked.

_'_Wait a minute! He closed the door, but he didn't lock it, did he?_'_. That gave you an excellent opportunity to get away. Maybe not off the ship yet, but certainly out of his grip. Well unless he was stadning on the other side of the door. But how likely was that? You were somehow confident you could hide for a few days behind some barrel or crate or something.

Careful to avoid making noise, you tiptoed over to the door, listening for any sort of movement. But the hallway stayed silent. So you tried to push your luck a bit. It was a 'now or never'-situation after all. And sure enough the door opened.

Slowly and therefore nearly inaudible, you walk down wooden corridors without knowing where you were. So much concerning your luck. You got lost! How the hell did you manage to get lost on a ship?

And within the next moments it became obvious that the lady luck didn't like you as much as you had thought previously. 'Cause as yet another staircase upwards came into your sight, some pirate turned around the corner before you.

Crap!

He looked at you. You looked at him. He opened his mouth and you made a run for it. You ran as fast as you could, turning corner after corner, he followed, calling for you to stop.

"You were supposed to stay in that room. Get back or the captain will kill me."

A bit out of breath, throwing a glance over your shoulder, you yelled back " Better you than me!"

Any other comments were cut short as you ran into some sort of brick wall. A wall that lifted you by the hem of your blouse. As you looked up, you met the eyes of one dangerous Captain Kidd. And he didn't look too happy.

_'_Shit! It's Kidd. Oh, hey, that rhymes. Gah, don't kill._'_, you thought as you went pale. Given the situation, you were sure this was the look his enemies received before they died. Astonishingly you were set back on the floor as the pirate came to a panting stop next to you.

Catching your breath, you watched the famous pirate captain nearly taking his subordinate apart for, obviously, not guarding the door properly. It wasn't like it was your problem where the pirate, who was supposed to keep you in that room, had been. So using the pirates' momentarily distraction, you made a dash back to where you came from. You didn't even reach the end of the corridor before you were flying through the air back to the pirates by the buckle of your belt.

You had forgotten about his devil fruit powers. This time he actually grabbed you by your throat. He just pressed enough to make breathing a tad bit complicated, but it were more his sharp, pointed, black-painted nails digging into your neck that made you gasp.

"And where do _you_ think you are going?", he snarled at you. Not able to answer, you opted for pointing behind you.

Given, this was not your best idea. But you were running on instinct by now.

Rule number 2: Give attitude to someone who could crush you like a fly and he probably will.

He set you back on your feet. Grabbing your neck and curling his fingers in your hair, escape became futile for you. Especially when he sandwiched you between his arm and upper body.

Seemed like he didn't want to take chance with you pulling another stunt. Though if you wanted, you figured, you could use the moment of surprise and make a grab for that dagger or gun, which were strapped over his chest. While you pondered on possible moves, too headstrong to give up that easily, the pirate captain dragged you back to that room.

You were oblivious the whole time you walked, but the clicking of a door behind you brought you back to reality. Kidd had abandoned you in the middle of the room in favour of lying on his bed, which you had sat on earlier, and skipping through some book.

So you did what you had done the majority of the day. Sitting down and glaring at him. But this time you used your time to carefully plan some sort of escape. Though his chair was rather uncomfortable and kept distracting you. It was wide, so two of you could sit there, though you had to admit that you were rather delicate for your height. You sighed inwardly. What a nice saying for tall and gangly. You twisted this and that way. The stool was made of sturdy wood and shaped like some sort of throne. And very uncomfortable as far as you were concerned. That man and his god damn ego.

And so maybe another hour went by before it knocked on the door. Sending you a glance, which said 'Go, open it, but don't try anything', you moved to the door. A man with some perforated mask or helmet of sorts carried a small white bottle and some apples.

Pressing the apples into your arms he made his short way over to his captain, handing over the bottle and leaving the room again without saying one word. If the whole crew was as strange as the captain and that guy, than congratulations! You were trapped with one hell of ignoring and unpredictable criminals.

Unsure of what to do with the apples, you put them on the desk and sat back down. As you looked back at Kidd, you saw him sitting on his bed propped up against the headboard, drinking, watching you closely for any sort of action or reaction. You glared at him fiercely, but then skipped to look at the wall before you, hearing him chuckle at you.

You eyed the door for a moment warily. Who were you kidding? Your eyes glided back to Kidd lounging on his bed. His head rested against one arm. Had you ever seen such a big biceps before, you wondered? Had you ever, for that matter, seen such a muscled man before? Silently you appreciated his form. As seemed to be the wont with him, silence stretched between the two of you as he watched you. Hesitantly you broke the silence, your voice unsure and awkward in this situation.

"So. You know, just for curiosity's sake: Why did you kidnap me again?" Had he heard the small squeak at the end? You hoped not. Whatever you had anticipated, didn't happen. He watched you with great amusement.

"Tche, you wouldn't believe it anyway."

"Test me." It was a reflex. Actually you didn't want an answer that much.

"Your man paid us quite a sum to get rid of you."

_What?_ Surprise made your mind go silent for a you heard right? Did he really imply...?

"What?" The indignation in your own voice made you wince.

"What girlie? Disappointed?" He laughed. Eustass Kidd laughed right in your face. About you.

Yes, you were sort of disappointed. You also didn't believe him. But you were still disappointed. Not to mention what you would feel if he actually spoke the truth. His voice cut through your thoughts.

"Tche, girlie, you don't believe me, do you? Well take a look at that." He fished a piece of paper out of a pocket and let it dangle mid-air.

You moved forward, next to the bed. Impatient fingers snatched the piece of paper from him. He tipped another cup of liquid back, watching you with evil enjoyment. Amber eyes were ablaze with malicious delight.

Lightly shaking fingers unfolded the paper. This sort of paper you had seen often before. Uncounted times even. It was indeed a pay-check from your boyfriend's work. On it a scribbled number and his signature. This little piece of paper shook you deeply.

You were sad, mad, confused and devastated all at once. On the edges of your consciousness female humiliation screeched at the obviously too low price for you. Balling your hands, you nearly ripped it apart. Furious, you looked at Kidd.

He still lay back, being awfully smug. A crooked grin was plastered on lips, his eyes shining with maleficent amusement. Chuckles turned into full-out laughter. His head bowed back, a hand ran through his spiky hair, as his whole body shook with his cackling. You saw red. Literally.

A careless and destructing rage was taking over your body and mind. Before you knew what you did, you pounced and your fists connected with his body. You were barely able to connect a good blow his head and chest, before he threw you off himself and the bed, followed you, flipped you onto your stomach and captured your wrists behind your back.

You were cursing and cussing for what you were worth. You bucked under him. Filled with fury for both men. Your obviously now ex-boyfriend and the man atop you, which had bought you like cattle. Still frustrated and mad, but exhausted, you relaxed under him.

But instead of letting you up, he settled his weight more comfortably on you thighs. It made your knees protest in agony. While one hand still kept your hands disabled, the other wandered along your backside. His pointy fingernails scratched along your spine until they encountered your belt.

"Tche."

That was all the warning you got before you were jerked upwards as your belt flew from the loops. Now unhindered the palm ghosted across your backside. A well-placed slap to your behind made you yelp.

Kidd cackled. He definitely enjoyed this more than he should. You turned your head onto the side. Loose strands of hair covered your face. Combined with your angry eyes you must have looked positively mad. You assumed as much because the look his eyes shifted ever so slightly. There was still the devious enjoyment in eyes, but also something appreciating and excited lurked beneath it.

"Let go." Your growled command made his lips curl upwards into a crazy smile. You could hear a metallic sound before something cold was wound around your wrists. Questioningly your fingertips moved along it. From the feeling of it, it was a roughly made, but solid, chain, both ends dangling against your knees.

Using his powers he pulled you towards his chair, where he had settled himself, smug smile still in place. Both chain ends attached themselves to the underside of armrests as Kidd pulled you forward. Your knees straddled his lap, while he folded his arms in front of himself, painted fingernail drumming on his biceps.

You stared down at him. All the hatred you had, you put into your glare. You gave him the king of evil eyes. In return you earned a satisfied smirk. Your growl was barely heard, so low you hissed the words.

"Let. Me. Go. This. Instance. I have to kill someone."

"Tche. And how would you kill that someone?" Disinterested his fingers toyed with the buttons of your blouse. Snapping them open once in a while. His skin was hot and his fingernails pressed uncomfortably into your flesh.

"I would break every bone in his body..." His hand wandered over your stomach, décolleté and back. The other arm rested casually on the arm rest.

"...then I would tear his eyes out..." A knife flew into his hand. Using the sharp side, he cut your bra open. Your feed cleavage rose and fell due to your rage induced uncontrolled breathing. The knife was thrown carelessly against the door. Nearly embedded into it to the hilt.

"...and then I would rip him to pieces with my bare hands..." Experienced hands opened your trousers, curving palms over your ass, kneading it, nails leaving scratch marks.

"...then I would burn every tiny bit of him..." Kidd hummed his approval as both hands spanned both sides of your waist, thumb nails moving over your nipples, making them harden involuntary.

"...and finally I would give his ashes to the pigs to eat." A hand gripped your hip, the other's nails tracing your rips and breasts. He smirked right back at you as you stared him down, still pissed.

"That is an interesting way to kill for a woman. Hot-blooded, but still evil." he remarked.

"And you will be the poor soul to be on the receiving end, if you don't stop this shit right now and get me back." you hissed back at him.

"Tche. You know what is really evil?" His mouth moved towards your nipple, biting it hard, while his hands pulled your ass cheeks apart and hips thrust upwards against you.

You wanted to growl, screech and seethe at the same time. Instead you leaned down and bit his neck. Your teeth sinking into his pale skin until you tasted blood. This earned you a slap to your ass and a bite into your waist. A hiss escaped your lips.

"You sick, twisted bastard.", you roared as he grasped some of your hair. Your lips crashed against his, biting his thin ones, teeth clashing, fighting for dominance. He matched you blow for blow. Each of you wanted to dominate the other, to execute one's power.

A hand roughly yanked at your hair, pulling your head so far back, that breathing, least of all speaking, was nearly impossible. Hot lips descended upon your throat. Open-mouthed kiss and a hot slick tongue followed each of his whims, teeth sometimes buried in your skin. Your hands clenched and unclenched behind your back.

His hand let go of your hair,but still held your neck in a vice-like grip. Kidd happily licked, sucked and bit into your breasts. One hand was kneading a breast, while the other stole south. You could feel a hot thumb moving across your centre, followed by the strange feeling of a nail ghosting lightly across it.

It was a strange feeling, not bad, just strange. You twisted your body this way and that, trying to find a way to hurt him or at least play him too. But he had successfully trapped your body above his.

Suddenly it knocked on the door. The guy with the mask from before stood in the door.

"Captain. Dinner." was all he said before leaving the room. Kidd pulled his legs up under you and climbed over an armrest.

You couldn't believe he was leaving you the way you were. Kidd had been nearly out the door when he heard the feminine growl behind him.

"You are so dead."

He look over his shoulder at the dishevelled woman, chained to his chair, so furious she was beautiful. Covered over and over in scratch marks, black lipstick and bite marks.

"Tche."

* * *

N/A: Oh, Kidd, you just wait, 'till she gets out of those chains. You want her to get her revenge? Leave a review. :)


End file.
